"He's going to be a darling," said Jill. "I'm sure of it."
Before we left for the theatre, I telephoned home and spoke to the butler.
"Is that you, Falcon?"
"It is, sir."
"Any dogs come for me?"
"Only one, sir."
"Is he all right?"
"Seems a little unsettled, sir, and—er—suspicious. He was rather short with Fitch sir, when he come in, but he had his leggin's on, sir, so there's no 'arm done. He's all right with me, sir."
I thought of the Dukedoms' cook and moistened my lips.
"See that he has a run on the lead before you go to bed," I said as nonchalantly as possible, "and then put him upstairs on my bed."