"There's your church-goers, Aunty; always ready to fly at each other. In order to study humanity thoroughly, one must first learn the ways of the beast."
"I'm afraid your dog's a traitor."
"A traitor?"
"Yes. Half the time he runs over to the Benningtons' and stays all night. I don't see why he should."
"Maybe they pet him over there. Perhaps he wants a hand sometimes, just like human beings when they're lonely. If you petted him once in a while, one pat for every ten you give the cat, the old boy would be tickled to death."
"But I'm kind to him, Richard; he has the best meat I can buy. I'd pet him, too, but I'm afraid of him. I'm always afraid of dogs. Besides, his feet are always muddy and his hair falls out and sticks to everything."
"Who is his latest love?"
"Patty Bennington. They go out riding together. I can always tell, for his stomach is invariably caked with dried mud."
"Patty Bennington? The old dog shows good taste. And I had forgotten all about Bennington's having a sister. I was thunderstruck when I met her the other week in New York. I had really forgotten her. She is charming."
"She is a dear young girl. Ah, Richard, if only you would find some one like her."