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For
a
moment
I
failed
to
understand
him
.
Then
I
said
sourly
:
"
Yes
,
all
is
right
.
"
"
Both
doing
well
?
"
he
inquired
.
"
Both
,
"
I
answered
,
and
all
the
time
I
was
trying
to
shut
the
window
.
It
was
undoubtedly
a
kindly
impulse
that
had
brought
him
out
,
but
I
was
nevertheless
in
a
passion
with
him
.
"
Boy
or
girl
?
"
persisted
the
dodderer
with
ungentlemanlike
curiosity
"
Boy
,
"
I
said
,
very
furiously
.
"
Splendid
,
"
he
called
out
,
and
I
think
he
added
something
else
,
but
by
that
time
I
had
closed
the
window
with
a
slam
.
Mary
's
poor
pretentious
babe
screamed
continually
,
with
a
note
of
exultation
in
his
din
,
as
if
he
thought
he
was
devoting
himself
to
a
life
of
pleasure
,
and
often
the
last
sound
I
heard
as
I
got
me
out
of
the
street
was
his
haw-haw-haw
,
delivered
triumphantly
as
if
it
were
some
entirely
new
thing
,
though
he
must
have
learned
it
like
a
parrot
.
I
had
not
one
tear
for
the
woman
,
but
Poor
father
,
thought
I
;
to
know
that
every
time
your
son
is
happy
you
are
betrayed
.
Phew
,
a
nauseous
draught
.
I
have
the
acquaintance
of
a
deliciously
pretty
girl
,
who
is
always
sulky
,
and
the
thoughtless
beseech
her
to
be
bright
,
not
witting
wherein
lies
her
heroism
.
She
was
born
the
merriest
of
maids
,
but
,
being
a
student
of
her
face
,
learned
anon
that
sulkiness
best
becomes
it
,
and
so
she
has
struggled
and
prevailed
.
A
woman
's
history
.
Brave
Margaret
,
when
night
falls
and
thy
hair
is
down
,
dost
thou
return
,
I
wonder
,
to
thy
natural
state
,
or
,
dreading
the
shadow
of
indulgence
,
sleepest
thou
even
sulkily
?
But
will
a
male
child
do
as
much
for
his
father
?
This
remains
to
be
seen
,
and
so
,
after
waiting
several
months
,
I
decided
to
buy
David
a
rocking-horse
.
My
St.
Bernard
dog
accompanied
me
,
though
I
have
always
been
diffident
of
taking
him
to
toy-shops
,
which
over-excite
him
.
Hitherto
the
toys
I
had
bought
had
always
been
for
him
,
and
as
we
durst
not
admit
this
to
the
saleswoman
we
were
both
horribly
self-conscious
when
in
the
shop
.
A
score
of
times
I
have
told
him
that
he
had
much
better
not
come
,
I
have
announced
fiercely
that
he
is
not
to
come
.
He
then
lets
go
of
his
legs
,
which
is
how
a
St.
Bernard
sits
down
,
making
the
noise
of
a
sack
of
coals
suddenly
deposited
,
and
,
laying
his
head
between
his
front
paws
,
stares
at
me
through
the
red
haws
that
make
his
eyes
so
mournful
.
He
will
do
this
for
an
hour
without
blinking
,
for
he
knows
that
in
time
it
will
unman
me
.
My
dog
knows
very
little
,
but
what
little
he
does
know
he
knows
extraordinarily
well
.
One
can
get
out
of
my
chambers
by
a
back
way
,
and
I
sometimes
steal
softly
--
but
I
ca
n't
help
looking
back
,
and
there
he
is
,
and
there
are
those
haws
asking
sorrowfully
,
"
Is
this
worthy
of
you
?
"
