At the downward movement of its master the dog
shrank back, gathered itself together, then suddenly sprang forward with
a harsh snarl and tried to fasten its teeth in his face. Valentine jumped
back just in time.
"He must have gone mad," he exclaimed. "Julian, see what you can do with
him."
Curiously enough, Rip welcomed Julian's advances with avidity, nestled
into his arms, but when he walked toward Valentine, struggled to escape
and trembled in every limb.
"How extraordinary!" Julian said. "Since your trance he seems to have
taken a violent dislike to you. What can it mean?"
"Oh, nothing probably. He will get over it. Put him into the other room."
Julian did so and returned.
Doctor Levillier was now sitting in an arm-chair. His light, kind
eyes were fixed on Valentine with a scrutiny so intense as to render
the expression of his usually gentle face almost stern. But Valentine
appeared quite unconscious of his gaze and mainly attentive to all that
Julian said and did. All this time the doctor had not said a word. Now
he spoke.
"You spoke of a trance?" he said, interrogatively.
Julian looked as guilty as a cribbing schoolboy discovered in his dingy
act.
"Doctor, Val and I have to crawl to you for forgiveness," he said.
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