Fudge had sniffed around the legs of a good many people, and might have written their biographies, but Dalton was new to him.

Few thieves had ever entered Kling's doors.
"I have just left your old friends, Mr.and Mrs.Blobbs," he began gayly, "who have advised me to bring to you rather a rare piece of lace belonging to my wife.

Fine, isn't it ?" He loosened the bundle and shook out the folds of the mantilla.
Otto put on his glasses, felt the texture of the piece between his fingers, and spread out the pattern for closer examination.

"Yes, dot's a good piece of lace.

Vot you vant to do vid it?
Dere's a hole in it, you see," and he thrust a pudgy finger into the gash.
"Yes, I know," returned Dalton, who, with his eye still on the dog, had been crushing it together so that the tear might not show; "but that is easily remedied.