Herman Cyril McNeile

“ And then we'll go on the river for the whole day, and take Binks, and an invisible cage for the Blue Bird. . . . We'll take our food, and a bone for Binks and the squeaky dog. Then in the evening we'll have dinner at the White Hart, and Binks shall have a napkin and sit up at table. And then after dinner we'll come home. My dear, but it's going to be Heaven." She was in his arms and her eyes were shining like stars. "There's only one rule. All through the whole day--no one, not even Binks--is allowed to think about the day after."
Vane regarded her with mock gravity. ”

“ She smiled--a quick, fleeting smile; and then she sighed.
"Life's hell, Derek--just hell, sometimes. And the little bits of Heaven make the hell worse."
"Life's pretty much what we make it ourselves, dear," said Vane gravely.
"It isn't," she cried fiercely. "We're what life makes us. . . ."
Vane bent over and started pulling one of Binks's ears.
"You hear that, old man," he said. "The lady is a base materialist, while I--your funny old master--am sprouting wings and growing a halo as a visionary." Vane looked sideways at the girl. "He manages to make his own life, Joan. ”

“ And then with the laughter that civilisation has decreed shall not be heard often, save on the lips of children, a man and a girl forgot everything save themselves. The world of men and matters rolled on and passed them by, and maybe a year of Hell is fair exchange for that brief space. ”

“ Green," continued Vane, when he had let himself into his rooms, and pacified Binks temporarily with the squeaky indiarubber dog. "Only you can save the situation. . . ."
Mrs. Green intimated by a magnificent gesture that she was fully prepared to save any situation.
"I have visitors for tea, or rather, to be correct--a visitor. A lady to comfort me--or perhaps torment me--as only your sex can." His eyes suddenly rested on Margaret's photo, and he stopped with a frown. Mrs. Green's motherly face beamed with satisfaction. ”

“ Still with the same faint smile, she turned to Binks. "Hullo, old fellow," she said. "You sure have got a great head on you." She bent over him, and put her hand on the browny-black patch behind his ears. . . . Binks growled; he disliked familiarity from people he did not know.
"Look out, Joan," said Vane nervously. "He's a little funny with strangers sometimes."
"Am I a stranger, old chap?" she said, taking off her glove, and letting her hand hang loosely just in front of his nose, with the back towards him. Vane nodded approvingly, though he said nothing ”

“ We win--hands down--all along the line. Do you realise that fair women and brave men who venture out to tea in London to-day have to pay half a crown for a small dog biscuit?" Vane rubbed his hands together. "After your tea, and possibly during it--I shall play my second card--Binks. Now I appeal to you--Could any girl with a particle of natural feeling consent to go on living away from Binks?" ”

“ A crowd of lunchers coming out of Prince's checked him for a moment or two, and forced him into the arms of an officer and a girl who were standing, apparently waiting for a taxi. Almost unconsciously he took stock of them, even as he apologised. . . . ”