"Yes, my lord."
"I shall want to see the bill."
Anthony hesitated, inwardly raging. Then—
"Very good, my lord," he said huskily.
Ten minutes later he was out of the house.
Along the road of Life goes bowling the coach of Destiny, and we poor passengers inside know neither whither we are being borne nor how long shall be our journey. Now and again the horses are pulled up, the door is opened, that grim guard Fate calls out a name, and one of us climbs pitifully forth, to pass with faltering steps into a sable hostelry. We that are left behind peer after him curiously…. Then the door is slammed, with a lurch the coach is off again on its eternal wayfaring, and we poor passengers inside sit betwixt hope and fear, wondering vainly what the next mile of road will bring to each of us.
Climb up upon the box-seat, gentlemen, if you will see what is to become of Anthony: so I am with you, you will not be sent packing.
Look how he is being borne unwitting over the Bridge of Care, into the Valley of Love, by Thicket Perilous, clean through the Waters of Anger to where the white road curls over that grey upland, and we can see it no more. As well for Anthony that he has not our knowledge. The next league or so will play the deuce with his emotions….
One last look, gentlemen. Can you see that cypress there, tall by the wayside, down in the Valley of Love? We will descend there, by your leave, for the driver will pull up his horses and the coach will stop. A dog has to be set down—a little dog, gentlemen, with rough hair and as soft brown eyes as ever you saw….
Anthony covered the distance between the station and the Dogs' Home at a good round pace. In fact, he was somewhat out of breath when a maid admitted him to the house and, leaving him in the hall, went in search of the superintendent.