For a moment the dog episode had gone out of his mind, and, with a quick smile, he took a step towards the speaker. "Why, Sybil," he said, "how topping you look! Isn't it a glorious night?" And then suddenly he remembered, and stopped with a frown.
"Peter," said the girl, quietly, "I want to hear about this afternoon from you, please."
"Haven't you heard all there is to be heard?" he answered, a little bitterly. "Miss Saunderson's dog fell into the mill-stream. I failed to pull it out: to be strictly accurate, I failed to attempt to pull it out. That's all there is to it."
They faced one another in the moonlight, and after a while the girl spoke again. "That's not like you. Peter. Why did you let it drown?"
"Because," said the man, deliberately, "I did not consider I was called on to risk my life to save a dog. Even poor little Toots," he added, cynically.
"Supposing it had been a child, Peter?" said the girl, gravely.
"My God!" answered the man, very low. "As bad as that, is it? Oh, my God!"
"They're saying things, Peter: all these people are saying things."
The man thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared with brooding eyes at the black, lifeless chimney.
"Saying I'm a coward, are they?" He forced the words out. "What do you think, Sybil?"