United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Villages -- Fiction
"I know it," I conceded; "that fellow thinks I am the most beautiful
person in all the world."
She said "Indeed?" with an inflection and a sweeping glance at me which
I found charged with meaning. But I knew well enough that I had for all
time mastered a certain measure of her difficult respect.
"And he's such a fine dog, too," she added in a tone intended to convey
to me the full extent of her pity for him.
"I have him remarkably well trained," I said. "I can often force him to
notice people whom I like, especially if they are clever enough to let
him see that they like me rather well."
"It would be almost worth while," she remarked with a longing look at
Jim but none at me.
"Many have found it quite so," I said, ordering Jim to charge at my
feet, "but it's a great bore, I assure you."
I needed not to be told that she envied me my power, and so deep and
genuine appeared to be her love for him that secretly I hoped he would
again be amiable to her during my absence on the morrow. The contrast of
his manner on my return would further chasten her.
From the porch we both watched her move across the little stretch of
lawn, and, at my whispered suggestion, Jim rose to his feet and barked
her insultingly over the last twenty feet of it. I was delighted to note
that this induced a shamed acceleration of her pace and a tighter
clutching of her skirts. I thought it important to let her know clearly
and at once just who was the master in my own house.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE LOYALTY OF JIM
If it must be my lot to dream out a life of insubstantial visions, that
were well. But it appeared not unreasonable that I should keep at least
one ponderable dog by me, as an emblem of something I had missed through
one too many shuffle of the cards before this big game began. Yet Miss
Lansdale had clearly resolved to deprive my dreaming of even this slight
support of realness. I tried always to remember, in her behalf, that she
did not know the circumstances, and she herself very soon discovered
that she did not know Jim. The assaults she made upon his fidelity
proved her to be past-mistress of tactics and strategy. No possible
approach to his heart did she leave untried. She flattered and petted,
lured, cajoled, entreated; she menaced, commanded, stormed, raged.
Drawing inspiration from a siege celebrated in antiquity, she sought to
secrete her forces--not in a horse of wood, but within the frames of
numerous fowl, picked to the bone but shredded over so temptingly with
fugitive succulence as to have made a dog of feelings less fine her
slave for life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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