Miller turned and took off his hat, giving her his hand.
“And I believe you will do it,” he said. “He's a lucky dog, even if he has just struck the ceiling. I know him, and your message will soften the blow. But it's awful, simply awful! I can't now see how they can possibly get from under it.”
“Well, tell him,” said Dolly, with a little, soundless sob in her throat—“tell him what I told you.”
XXII
HAT afternoon the breeze swerved round from the south, bringing vague threats About three o' clock Alan, his his mother and father were in the front yard, looking at the house, with a view to making some alterations that had been talked of for several years past.