Ralph Henry Barbour

“ In a second the dirt was flying. The dachshund’s shovel-like paws twinkled. Now and then she stopped to sniff in the hole she was digging. Evidently she smelled something—perhaps nothing more than a mole—that aroused her sporting proclivities, for each time that her head was withdrawn, covered with dirt, she returned yet more furiously to the assault.
In scarce the time it takes to tell, she had burrowed under the gate and Roger, lifting her to his arms, smiled the smile of a Machiavel. ”

“ It was as though a cloud had for a moment hidden the moon; life became real again, something more than a dream in a fairy garden; memories of yesterdays and knowledge of to-morrows came to them with an awakening shock; the moonlight’s splendor paled. Roger, resisting the qualm of depression, strove to draw her back into his arms. ”

“ He would come to the Hall or to the gate in half an hour.
When the message was dispatched his spirits arose. Perhaps, after all, the obstacle was an imaginary one; women have strange fancies oftentimes. Whatever it might be, a sensible talk could not fail to help matters. And about the time he had reached this point in his reflections, Denis returned from the Hall with the brief announcement that there was no answer!
Roger stormed, but to what purpose? ”