“No, for it seemed no use.”
“It will do no harm, for he may have scratched at our door and we may not have heard him. I sleep heavily these days, and then he may have gone to Odette as the next friend to rely upon. I go now, chérie. Do not despond.”
She went out and Lucie followed as far as the next door, upon which she tapped. The doors now were not locked since the two little girls had become intimates and wished to run back and forth at will. Hearing no response to her rap Lucie went in. Odette was sitting, elbows on window sill, staring out into the street. It was a gray day, somber and chill, for winter was at hand. “Have you seen Pom Pom?” Lucie made her query without further delay.
“Pom Pom? No, why, have you lost him?”
Lucie dropped down on the floor and covered her face with her hands. “He is gone, gone, the dear little dog whom I loved so well, and, whom I promised to take good care of.”
“When did you see him last?”
“When Victor was here last evening. He was so overjoyed when Victor arrived. You never saw such delight. Paulette thinks he may have followed Victor downstairs, but of course Victor would have sent him back.”
“If he saw him. This is what I think; that he followed your friend to the street. Monsieur sent him back. He returned to find the door shut.”
“He would have waited there till morning unless some one picked him up. Oh, Odette, I have lost him, lost him, and now I no more have a dear little dog to love me and to love.”
“But you have others; me, I have no one, not even a dog to love or to love me.”