I saw him looking at the dogs, which were sniffing the air, and pulling at their leads in the endeavour to investigate delicious smells. Suddenly he stopped short, just as the man was passing us. At the same moment I saw the black spaniel shrink back and cower down against the ground, pressing his broad, flapping ears against his head. “What is it, Vernon?” I said. He did not reply. He was staring at the spaniel. The owner of the dogs saw a possible purchaser, and at once, in a soft and very disagreeable voice, began to enumerate their merits. “H’sh!” Vernon hissed at him. The man stopped in astonishment. “That dog there,” said Vernon, pointing to the black spaniel, which was still shrinking down, and pulling back from his lead in an effort to get away. “How long have you had him?” “Ever since he was baun, gen’leman,” replied the man. “’E’s the gentlenist, the best-mannered dawg as hiver⸺” “How old is he? What’s his age?” “Just upon a year, Sir, a year ’e’ll be this very selfsame month. ’E was one of as fine a litter o’ pups as⸺” “You bred him?” “Yes, Sir.” “A year old, is he?” “Just upon, Sir. The thirtieth’s the day, Sir—the thirtieth of this selfsame month. Law bless you, I knows the birthdays of hivery dawg as hiver⸺” “What’s his price?” The man licked his lips, and I saw a gleam in his small eyes. “Well, Sir, I dunno as I’m dispoged to part with ’im. You see, I gets to love⸺” “How much?” The tone was sharp. The words came almost like a pistol-shot. “Ten puns, Sir,” said the man. “I should say, fifteen puns, Sir.” “I’ll give you twelve.” “I reely couldn’t tike it, Sir. The dawg’s the very happle of⸺” “There’s my address—301, Wimpole Street.” He gave the man his card. “Bring the dog there at six o’clock this evening, and you shall have twelve pounds, not a penny more. Good-day.” “I’ll be there, Sir. You can trust me, you can⸺” We walked on. As we did so, the spaniel whimpered, ran to his master, and fawned about his legs as if demanding protection. For several minutes neither Vernon nor I said a word. I was in amazement. What had just happened may seem to some a very small matter. To me it seemed extraordinary, mysterious, even—I could not tell why—horrible. There had been something peculiar in Vernon’s attitude, in his face, while he stood looking at the spaniel, something fatal that had affected my nerves. Then my wonder was naturally great that such a man should thus abruptly go back from his word. And the spaniel’s cringing attitude of terror when Vernon had gazed at him, had spoken to his master, was disagreeable to me, acutely disagreeable in the remembrance of it! It seemed to me very strange and unnatural that such an ardent lover of animals as Vernon was should inspire an animal with fear. Animals have an instinct that always tells them who loves them. This spaniel was apparently without this instinct.