One pitied him at first--and then loved him.

For Peter, in spite of his homeliness, had the two best bloods of all dog creation in his veins.

Yet in a way it was like mixing nitro-glycerin with olive oil, or dynamite and saltpeter with milk and honey.
Peter's heart was thumping rapidly as he took a step toward the deeper shadows.

He swallowed hard, as if to clear a knot out of his scrawny throat.

But he had made up his mind.