Something began to lick his eyes, ears, and chin in a sort of
ecstasy: and, clutching out, he found his arms full of totally
unexpected bulldog.
"Get out!" whispered Sam tensely, recovering his faculties with a jerk.
"Go away!"
Smith took the opportunity of his lips having opened to lick the roof
of his mouth. Smith's attitude in the matter was that providence in its
all-seeing wisdom had sent him a human being at a moment when he had
reluctantly been compelled to reconcile himself to a total absence of
such indispensable adjuncts to a good time, and that now the revels
might commence. He had just trotted downstairs in rather a disconsolate
frame of mind after waiting with no result in front of Webster's
bedroom door, and it was a real treat to him to meet a man, especially
one seated in such a jolly and sociable manner on the floor. He welcomed
Sam like a long-lost friend.
Between Smith and the humans who provided him with dog-biscuits and
occasionally with sweet cakes there had always existed a state of
misunderstanding which no words could remove.
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