I called the Sealyham.
"Nobby," said I, "I'm being bullied. The woman we love is turning my words against me."
For a moment the dog looked at us. Then he sat up and begged.
"And what," said Adèle, caressing him, "does that mean?"
"He's pleading my cause—obviously."
"I'm not so sure," said Adèle. "I wish he could talk."
"You're a wicked, suspicious girl. Here are two miserable males, all pale and trembling for love of you—you've only got to smile to make them rich—and you set your small pink heel upon their devotion. I admit it's a soft heel—one of the very softest——"
"——I ever remember," flashed Adèle. "How very interesting! 'Heels I have Held,' by Wild Oats. Were the others pink, too?"
Solemnly I regarded her.
"A little more," said I, "and I shan't teach her to drive."