“You’ll tell her what she must do when everyone’s gone,” she murmured softly; and then, with her eyes fixed upon his face, she stroked his beard with her small, nervous hand.

Mrs. Otter and Wolf smiled at each other; and there came into Wolf’s mind those scenes in Homer where girlish suppliants, mortal as well as immortal, lay their hands upon the chins of those they are cajoling!

“Would you tear my hair out as well as your own,” enquired Darnley, “if she goes on refusing to let you live with us?” Wolf thought he had never seen Darnley’s eyes look so deeply luminous as they did while he uttered those words.