"The puppy's no worse," declared Margery, "and if he knew which it was, Jacob would never part with it. But we never shall know, for I don't remember which I saved. You must be terrible strong to have faced that awful water. It took me like a leaf."
"Wasn't the water's fault," he answered. "Young women can't go playing about with the rivers in flood. A little item like you was bound to be swept away."
"It's a wonderful thing to look at a man who's saved your life," said Margery.
"Wish I was a finer object," he replied.
Jacob hid his emotion, but had to speak and occupy himself. The invalid was nursing two young puppies from the last litter. She had demanded something to play with.
"Best let me take them back," he said. "Mustn't keep Mr. Winter—he's a busy man. And mustn't spoil young dogs. Bless it, you're cuddling them as if they was a brace of babbies!"
"They are babbies," answered Margery, "and if you can't cuddle babbies, what should you cuddle?"
She was wilful still and continued to speak in a tired, small voice.
"Are you fond of dogs?" she asked, and Adam declared that he was.
"What's life without 'em, I say," he answered.