"Lots of little boys," sneered Liza.

"There were several adults to-day," he assured her with a faint
flush; but when she tossed her head he had not a word of reproof for
her. Social success had not spoilt him; it had made him sweeter.
For some time he sat with his head out of the kennel, talking with
Mrs. Darling of this success, and pressing her hand reassuringly
when she said she hoped his head would not be turned by it.

"But if I had been a weak man," he said. "Good heavens, if I
had been a weak man!"

"And, George," she said timidly, "you are as full of remorse as
ever, aren't you?"

"Full of remorse as ever, dearest! See my punishment: living
in a kennel."

"But it is punishment, isn't it, George? You are sure you are
not enjoying it?"