Certainly the Jampot felt this; a flood of colour rose into her face.

Her mouth opened.

But what she would have said is uncertain, for at that very moment the drama was further developed by the slow movement of the door, and the revelation of half of Uncle Samuel's body, clothed in its stained blue painting smock, and his ugly fat face clothed in its usual sarcastic smile.
"Excuse me one moment," he said; "I hear you have a dog." The Jampot rose, as good manners demanded, but said nothing.
"Where is the creature ?" he asked.
The new addition to the Cole family had finished his washing; the blazing fire had almost dried him, and his hair stuck out now from his body in little stiff prickles, hedgehog fashion, giving him a truly original appearance.

His beard afforded him the air of an ambassador, and his grave, melancholy eyes the absorbed introspection of a Spanish hidalgo; his tail, however, in its upright, stumpy jocularity, betrayed his dignity.
"There he is," said Jeremy, with a glance half of terror, half of delight, at the Jampot.

"Isn't he lovely ?" "Lovely.