You don't know what that would mean to me."
Lena stooped down and kissed the nose of the diminutive brown Pomeranian
that lay, snug and irresponsive, beneath a shawl on her lap.
"Look here," said Strudwarden, "this eternal Louis business is getting to
be a ridiculous nuisance. Nothing can be done, no plans can be made,
without some veto connected with that animal's whims or convenience being
imposed. If you were a priest in attendance on some African fetish you
couldn't set up a more elaborate code of restrictions. I believe you'd
ask the Government to put off a General Election if you thought it would
interfere with Louis's comfort in any way."
By way of answer to this tirade Mrs. Strudwarden stooped down again and
kissed the irresponsive brown nose. It was the action of a woman with a
beautifully meek nature, who would, however, send the whole world to the
stake sooner than yield an inch where she knew herself to be in the
right.
"It isn't as if you were in the least bit fond of animals," went on
Strudwarden, with growing irritation; "when we are down at Kerryfield you
won't stir a step to take the house dogs out, even if they're dying for a
run, and I don't think you've been in the stables twice in your life.
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