The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. “It is a delightful day for walking, but a great deal too cold to be standing on the pavement. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. Cahill gave me a hall pass. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip.
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