"You got a dog at home?" he asked of Ann.

At the silence, Katie looked up. The puppy was now cuddled upon Ann's
breast, her two arms about it. As she shook her head her chin brushed the
soft puppy fur--then buried itself in it. Her eyes deepened.

"It must be just the dreadfulest thing there is not to have a dog,"
Worth condoled.

There was no response. The puppy's head was on Ann's shoulder. He was
ambitious to mount to her face.

"Didn't you _never_ have a dog?" Worth asked, drawling it out tragically.

The head nodded yes, but the eyes did not grow any more glad at thought
of once having had a dog.

Worth took a step nearer and lay an awed hand upon her arm. "Did
he--_die_?"

She nodded. Her face had grown less sorrowful than hard. It was the look
of that first day.

Worth shook his head slowly to express deep melancholy. "It's awful--to
have 'em die. Mine died once. I cried and cried and cried. Then papa got
me a bigger one."

He waited for confidences which did not come. Ann was holding the
puppy tight.