The girl shook her head.
“No, he belongs to Hervey.”
“Um! I wonder where he got him from,” in a meditative tone.
“Somewhere out in the wilds of the Yukon,” put in Alice.
“Ah! The Yukon.” And Robb’s face was serious as he turned towards the window and looked out at the creeping shadows of evening.
There was a pause. Prudence was thinking of anything but the subject of Robb’s inquiries. Alice was curious, but she forbore to question. She had heard her lover’s account of his misadventure in the Alaskan hills, but she saw no connection between the hound and that disastrous affair. But the man’s thoughts were hard at work. Presently he rose to depart.
He bade Prudence good-bye and moved towards the door. The dog remained where he had been standing and looked after him. At the door Robb hesitated, then he turned and looked back.
“Poor old Bully,” he said.
With a bound the dog was at his side. Then the man turned away, and, accompanied by Alice, left the room. In the passage he paused, and Alice saw an expression on his face she had never seen before. He was nervous and excited, and his eyes shone in the half-light.