man to give it to my loved one?"

"It would not hurt me."

But I would not. Something warned me. It was a ruse to get it out
of my possession. The whole thing was haunting, weird, ghostly.
Always I could hear Watson. I still had a small quota of courage
and will-power. I clung steadfastly to my purpose.

It was a sad three hours. Poor Charlotte! I shall never forget it.
It is the hardest task on earth to deny one's loved one.

She had grown into my heart and into its possession. She clung to
me tenderly, tearfully. I could not tell her. Her feminine
instinct sensed disaster. In spite of her tears I insisted. When I
kissed her goodnight she did not speak. But she looked up at me
through her tears. It was the hardest thing of all for me to bear.




XVII

THE SHEPHERD


When I returned to the city next morning I took my dog. It was a
strange whim; but one which was to lead to a remarkable
development. I have always been a lover of dogs. I was lonely.
There is a bond between a dog and his master. It goes beyond