” “I am frightened of Sir John,” he said, “but I suggest that we risk it. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged.
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