But in every way he suggested a bad,
a damnably bad, character. A woman said to me once about him that it was
like an emanation."
"Ah!"
The doctor finished his gruel and put down the basin on the table beside
him.
"By the way, where did Marr live? Anywhere in my direction? Would he, for
instance, go home from Piccadilly, or the theatres, by Regent Street?"
"I don't know at all where he lived."
"Have you ever seen him with animals,--with dogs, for instance?"
"No."
"If he had been as evil as you suppose, any dog would have avoided him."
"Well, but dogs avoid perfection too."
"Hardly, Addison."
"But Rip and Valentine!"
The remark struck the doctor; that was obvious. He pushed his right foot
slowly backwards and forwards on Rupert's back, rucking up the dog's
loose skin in heavy folds.
"Yes," he said; "Rip is rather an inexplicable beggar. But do you mean
to tell me he hasn't got over his horror of Valentine to-day?"
"This afternoon he was worse than ever. If Valentine had touched him,
I believe he would have gone half mad. I had to put him out of the room."
"H'm!"
"Isn't it unaccountable?"
"I must say that it is. Dogs are such faithful wretches. If Rupert and
Mab were to turn against me like that I believe it would strike at my
heart more fiercely than the deed of any man could.
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