permission, and Avery did not do so.

"I am only going to run quickly down to the post," she said, with a
glance at some letters she carried.

He might have offered to post them for her, but such a course did not
apparently occur to him. Instead he said: "I'll race you if you like."

Avery refrained from smiling, conscious of a gay glance flung in her
direction.

"I see you prefer to walk circumspectly," said Piers. "Well, I can do
that too. How is Mike? Why isn't he with you?"

"Mike is quite well, thank you," said Avery. "And he is kept chained up."

"What an infernal shame!" burst from Piers. "I'd sooner shoot a dog than
keep him on a chain."

"So would I!" said Avery impulsively.

The words were out before she could check them. It was a subject upon
which she found it impossible to maintain her reticence.

Piers grinned triumphantly and thrust out a boyish hand. "Shake!" he
said. "We are in sympathy!"

But Avery only shook her head at him, refusing to be drawn.
"People--plenty of nice people--have no idea of the utter cruelty of it,"
she said. "They think that if a dog has never known liberty, he is