“I can’t help that,” she said in her trailing voice. “I know he’ll kill my darling boy.”
At sight of his wife, my master had jumped from the car and stood on the sidewalk.
“Permit me,” he said, and leaning across her he took young Fatty Beans and put him on the seat beside me.
The lady gave a shriek, and covered her eyes with her little white gloves.
When she looked up, young Beans sat beside me, straight as a major. I had hissed in his ear, “If you don’t pretend to like me, I’ll knock the stuffing out of you, first chance I get.”
The young fellow didn’t want to get unstuffed, so he turned to his mistress with a sickly grin.
“Why, darling,” she said slowly, “I believe you like him. Was he lonely doggie by his own seffies?”
He hadn’t been a lonely doggie by his own “seffies,” but he was too frightened to tell her so, and if he had, she didn’t possess enough knowledge of dogs to understand him.
With a wondering face, Madame stepped in beside her husband who had taken his old place.
“Now what about the dogs?” she asked. “I was planning to take Beanie in here with me as usual, but perhaps he’d rather sit with his new friend.”