"Once past the pub," said Berry, "he'll be all right. But if he says he feels faint outside the saloon-bar, don't argue with him, but come straight home."
"At any rate," said Adèle, "I shall have Nobby."
The reference brought us back to Mr. Bason with a rush.
In spite of our resolution to eschew the subject, that gentleman's letter was heatedly discussed for the remainder of dinner.
To-day was the third of September, and on the eleventh a dog-show was to be held at Brooch. I had not entered Nobby, because I felt that his exhibition would probably cause us more trouble than the proceeding was worth. It now occurred to us that Mr. Bason would almost certainly enter—had probably long ago entered his precious Chow. Any local triumph, however petty and easy for a man of means to procure, would be sure to appeal to one of his calibre, and the chance, which the show would afford, of encountering, if not accosting, one or two County people would be greatly to his relish. Supposing we did enter Nobby....
The idea of beating Mr. Bason in the race for first prize with the "rough-haired mongrel" which "it amused us to keep about our house" was most appealing.
As soon as dinner was over, Berry rang up the Secretary.
Our surmise was correct. Blue Bandala was entered.
"Well, am I too late to enter a Sealyham?"
"Not if you do it to-morrow," came the reply.