"I hate it, more and more each time," said the vet., gruffly. "Poor little chap!"
"It's worse than a man," snapped the General. "A dog trusts a fellow so—so infernally. Damn that young Parker!"
With which explosion he had blown his nose loudly and stalked off for a long walk.
At length he pitched his cigarette away and turned back into the room. And at that moment, very clear and distinct from somewhere in the garden, there came a low whistle.
"Hush! you fellows, listen!" The argument ceased at his abrupt words, and the two men stared at him, as he stood motionless half-way between the table and the window. "Did you hear that whistle?"
"Personally, I did not," remarked the Actor, "but at the moment I was engrossed in other matters. A vulgar habit—whistling—but not, I regret to say, uncommon."
"There's someone in the garden," said the General. "I thought I saw something move earlier, and just then I heard a whistle most distinctly."
"My dear man," said the Actor, with a beneficent wave of his shapely hand, "are there not maidservants in the house? I fear that soldiering destroys romance."
The Soldier grunted. "Perhaps you're right. My mind was busy with other things. I think I'll take a stroll outside, too, for a bit. Give me a hail when you've finished your discussion."
He moved once more towards the window, only to pause on the threshold.