"No, I won't give him up. I won't. I had a hard enough time gettin' him ashore, I did."
Hawkes pleaded again.
"No," said Peg firmly. "I WILL NOT GIVE HIM UP. And that's all there is about it."
The lawyer tried again to take the dog from her: "Come, Miss O'Connell, you really must be reasonable."
"I don't care about being reasonable," replied Peg. "'Michael' was given to me by me father an' he's not very big and he's not a watchdog, he's a pet dog—and look—" She caught sight of Ethel's little poodle and with a cry of self-justification, she said:
"See, she has a dog in the house—right here in the house. Look at it!" and she pointed to where the little ball of white wool lay sleeping on Ethel's lap. Then Peg laughed heartily: "I didn't know what it was until it MOVED."
Peg finally weakened under Mr. Hawkes' powers of persuasion and on the understanding that she could see him whenever she wanted to, permitted the lawyer to take "Michael" out of her arms and give him to the disgusted footman, who held him at arm's length in mingled fear and disgust.
Then Hawkes took the bag and the parcels and handed them also to Jarvis. One of them burst open, disclosing her father's parting gifts. She kept the rosary and the miniature, and wrapping up the others carefully she placed them on the top of the other articles in the outraged Jarvis's arms, and then gave him her final injunctions. Patting "Michael" on the head she said to the footman:
"Ye won't hurt him, will ye?"
"Michael" at that stage licked her hand and whined as though he knew they were to be separated. Peg comforted him and went on: "And I'd be much obliged to ye if ye'd give him some wather and a bone. He loves mutton bones."