“Well,” said Mr. Blakely, “it was a—it was a nice-looking dog.”
“What colour was he?”
“He was—ah—white. That is, I think—”
“It wasn't Duke,” said Penrod. “Duke's kind of brownish-gray-like.”
Mr. Blakely brightened.
“Yes, that was it,” he said. “This dog I saw first had another dog with him—a brownish-gray dog.”
“Little or big?” Penrod asked, without interest.
“Why, Duke's a little dog!” Margaret intervened. “Of COURSE, if it was little, it must have been Duke.”
“It WAS little,” said Mr. Blakely too enthusiastically. “It was a little bit of a dog. I noticed it because it was so little.”
“Couldn't 'a' been Duke, then,” said Penrod. “Duke's a kind of a middle-sized dog.” He yawned, and added: “I don't want him now. I want to stay in the house this afternoon, anyway. And it's better for Duke to be out in the fresh air.”