"Are you going to wash his face?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The Irish terrier was plainly pleased to see his old nurse.
"How is the little Sealyham?"
"'Tis a sick dog, ma'am."
Valerie turned away.
The superintendent escorted her back to the house.
"I'll be down to-morrow morning," she said.
"Very well, Miss French."
As she walked down the drive, Valerie wondered miserably whether she was treading it for almost the last time.