"That's just what I do mean, Mrs. Crofton. That smart little fellow just
spirited the creature away."
As he spoke, sitting with his back to the window, he was observing his
pretty patient very closely. She had reddened angrily and was biting her
lips. What a little vixen _she_ was, to be sure! And suddenly she saw
what he was thinking.
"I'd like to put a question to you, Mrs. Crofton."
"Do!" she insisted, but his question, when it came, displeased her.
"Is it true that that wasn't the first time you'd had an unpleasant
experience with an animal at Old Place?"
Dr. O'Farrell had not meant to ask his patient this question to-day, but
he really felt curious to know the truth concerning something Godfrey
Radmore had told him that morning.
"Yes," she answered, slowly, "the first time I was in Old Place, Timmy
Tosswill's dog frightened me out of my wits."
"That's very strange," said the doctor, "Flick's such a mild-mannered
dog."
Enid Crofton lifted herself up from her reclining position. "Dr.
O'Farrell! I wouldn't say so to anyone but you, but don't you think
there's something uncanny about Timmy Tosswill? My little maid told me
last night that the village people think he's a kind of--well, I don't
know what to call it!--a kind of boy-witch.
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