The Foot of Time: A Novel of Australia and the South Seas: (1933)

266 THE FOOT OF TIME
guardian. "Take good care of her, Bruno," he had
ordered, "until I take over from you."
Inside, Clare sat down, took the great head into
both her arms, hugging him till he well-nigh
choked, then she cried a little, yet smiled through
it all. "What will he say when he knows, Bruno?"
Clare enquired of the dog, and then half-crying,
and half Bruno didn't know what, hugged him
again.
"Queer things, women," the dog mused.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE SECOND KNOT.
PURRING its tortuous way up the short Manly hill,
a heavy car stopped outside the home of Florence
Tooth. She had expected and looked for its coming,
having been apprised by Clare to do so, and
to keep a silent tongue. The back seat was occupied
by Bruno, erect, all important. No one
attempted to start that limousine while the two
other occupants were out of it, but at this particular
house only Sir Bruce alighted.
"Go in alone, darling, and then tell me all about
it afterwards," Clare had enjoined him, "and mind
you hurry back to me. I'll turn the car to be ready
to get way the very second it's over."
The man rang an electric bell, was shown in by
Bridget, the maid of all work—sticking, for a
wonder, to Florence leech fashion. Florence Tooth
came in—grim, tight-lipped, dour.
"How do you do, Main? I'm Bruce Arbuthnot.
Possibly my presence will not be welcome
"The fact that you are here is good enough for
me, Sir Bruce," retorted Florence. "She has had a
rough spin—very rough. I make little doubt you're
aware of it, and will make up some lost ground."