"Begad, Perry, but that's a vicious brute of yours!" cried Anthony. This as Wildfire curvetted, snorting, sidled and performed an impassioned dance upon the footpath.
"Not exactly vicious, Tony," I demurred when I had quelled this exuberance, "merely animal spirits. Wildfire is a high-strung creature requiring constant thought and attention and is consequently interesting, besides which—"
Here a shriek and hoarse shouts as, by means of whip and curb and spur, I swung the animal in question from the dangerous proximity of a shop window and checked his impulse to walk on his hind legs.
"Scarcely a lady's pad, Peregrine!" grinned Anthony, as I came perilously near upsetting a coster's barrow, to its owner's vociferous indignation. "Egad, a four-footed devil warranted to banish every other worry but himself!"
"Precisely," said I, when my steed, moderating his ardour, permitted me coherent speech. "And this is the reason I ride him. No one mounted on Wildfire can think of anything but Wildfire and this is sometimes a blessing."
"How so, Perry?"
"Well, I am harassed of late by two obsessions—the memory of that poor—drowned child—I cannot forget her face!"
"But, deuce take it, man—this was days and days ago."
"And the other is, strangely enough—Diana. The thought that I shall meet her so soon—a nameless doubt—an indefinable dread—"
"Dread, Perry? Doubt? What the dooce d'ye mean?"