Her colour fled. She stooped swiftly, gracefully, and unleashed the anxious bulldog.
"Get him!" she whispered, tensely.
Like a shot the dog sprang for George. He caught the animal in his arms and submitted to its moist and eager caresses.
"It's a mistake," he pointed out, "to send a dog that loves the stables after a stable boy."
He dropped the dog, picked up his suitcase, and started down the drive. The dog followed him. He turned.
"Go back, Roland!"
Sylvia remained crouched. She cried out, her contralto voice crowded with surprise and repulsion:
"Take him with you. I never want to see him again."
So, followed by the dog, George walked bravely out into the world through the narrow gateway of her home.