“Playing!” the man snapped. “You call that playing!” As Wags again came toward him he raised his foot to kick him.
“Don’t!” Doris pleaded. “I tell you it was an accident.”
She caught the dog up in her arms and held him away.
“What do you want here anyway?” the man asked rudely.
The first drops of rain were beginning to fall and as a vivid streak of lightning flashed above the house, the girls cringed.
“Please, may we come in?” Doris begged.
Silently the man held the door open for them but he scowled as they passed through. They entered a large kitchen. Before they had time to take stock of it, a stout, slovenly woman who was mopping the floor, bore wrathfully down upon them.
“You can’t come in here with that dog!” she told them. “Can’t you see I’ve just finished mopping up this big ark of a kitchen?”
Chilled by this reception, the girls hastily backed toward the door.
“What is it you want?” the woman asked, less harshly.