Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part III - II
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II
Six weeks later I made the discovery that two intruders
had insinuated themselves into my wife’s confidence.
One of them was a dog, a King Charles, a blear-eyed
little monster, which greeted me Avith deafening yelping
and barking every time I entered the house, just as if I
had been a stranger. I always disliked dogs, those pro-
tectors of cowards who lack the courage to fight an
assailant themselves ; but I particularly disliked this dog,
because it was a relic of her first marriage, a constant
reminder of her late husband.
The first time I protested, and ordered it to lie down,
my wdfe reproached me gently, and made excuses for
the little beast, which she called her late daughter’s
legacy, pretending to be horror-struck at this suddenly
revealed strain of cruelty in my disposition.
One day I found traces of the little monster on the
drawing-room carpet. I punished it, and she called me
a coward who ill-treated dumb creatures.
’*But what else could I do, my dear? It’s no use
arguing with animals ; they don’t understand our
language."
She began to cry, and sobbingly confessed that she
could not help being afraid of a cruel man. . . .
And the monster continued to dirty the drawing-room
carpet.
I decided to take the trouble to train the dog, and did
my utmost to convince her that a little perseverance does
wonders with an intelligent animal.
She lost her temper, and for the first time drew
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