'I've brought Harvey back at last,' I replied. 'Here he is.'
But it was at me she looked, not at the dog who had cast himself at her feet--looked as though she would have fished my soul out of my breast on the instant.
'Wha--what did you think of him? What did you make of him?' she panted. I was too taken aback for the moment to reply. Her voice broke as she stooped to the dog at her knees. 'O Harvey, Harvey! You utterly worthless old devil!' she cried, and the dog cringed and abased himself in servility that one could scarcely bear to look upon. I made to go.
'Oh, but please, you mustn't!' She tugged at the car's side. 'Wouldn't you like some flowers or some orchids? We've really splendid orchids, and'--she clasped her hands--'there are Japanese goldfish--real Japanese goldfish, with four tails. If you don't care for 'em, perhaps your friends or somebody--oh, please!'
Harvey had recovered himself, and I realised that this woman beyond the decencies was fawning on me as the dog had fawned on her.
'Certainly,' I said, ashamed to meet her eye. 'I'm lunching at Mittleham, but--'
'There's plenty of time,' she entreated. 'What do you think of Harvey?'
'He's a queer beast,' I said, getting out. 'He does nothing but stare at me.'
'Does he stare at you all the time he's with you?'
'Always. He's doing it now. Look!'