"What a curious thing," he said musingly. "I have always regarded Flick
as one of the best tempered of dogs. This is the first time he has ever
behaved like this."
Mrs. Crofton dragged herself up from her comfortable seat. Her face
looked white and pinched. In spite of her real effort to control herself,
there were tears in her eyes and her lips were trembling. "If you are on
the telephone," she said appealingly, "I should be so grateful if you
should send for a fly. I don't feel well enough to walk home." She tried
to smile. "My nerves have been upset for some time past."
Janet felt vexed and concerned. "Jack will drive you home in our old pony
cart," she said soothingly. "Will you go and bring it round, Tom?"
Tom slipped off, and there arose a babel of voices, everyone saying how
sorry they were, Dolly especially, explaining eagerly how she herself had
personally superintended the shutting up of the dog. As for Betty, she
went off into the hall and quietly fetched Mrs. Crofton's charming
evening cloak and becoming little hood. As she did so she told herself
again that Mrs. Crofton must be much better off than they had thought
her to be from her letter.
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