"So do I," she replied. "Jacob can't see the human side of dogs—no, you can't, Jacob. He's all for discipline."
"Quite right too," declared Winter. "You must put into the heart of a dog his bounden duty from the first, else he'll grow up a nuisance to himself and everybody else. Work did ought to be found for every dog. If it ain't, they think life's all play and that makes 'em selfish."
"Jacob's the whole law and the prophets about dogs," asserted Margery. "They're blessed creatures and nothing's too good for them—you know you think so, Jacob."
"They haven't got souls, however," explained Mrs. Huxam, "and you had no sort of right, Margery, to run the risk of drowning for a dog."
"Some dogs have got far bigger souls than some men," answered her daughter; "and you've only got to look in their eyes to see 'em."
"That's a wicked thing to say, and I'm sorry you said it," replied Judith. "It shows your mind is wandering still and there's fever left in your brain. So these men had best to be gone. You forget your religion, Margery."
The girl was silenced, but Adam Winter, who did not fear Mrs. Huxam, ventured on a doubtful joke.
"The dogs have got religion anyway," he assured them, "for I'm sure the little ones worship your darter, ma'am; and the big ones worship Mr. Bullstone."
"'Tis a great thing to search to the heart of a dog," murmured Margery, "and nobody ever did that like Jacob."
Adam Winter, conscious that his last remark had annoyed Mrs. Huxam, though she did not answer it with words, got up to go his way.