Whatever kept ye out 'til this time o' night, Patsy darlin' ?" he added, letting the brogue creep into his tone, as he did when stirred by any emotion.
Uncle John started to take off her wet cloak.
"Look out!" cried Patsy; "you'll disturb Mumbles." The two men looked at her bundle curiously.
"Who's Mumbles ?" asked one.
"What on earth is Mumbles ?" inquired the other.
The bundle squirmed and wriggled.

Patsy sat down on the floor and carefully unwound the folds of the cloak.

A tiny dog, black and shaggy, put his head out, blinked sleepily at the lights, pulled his fat, shapeless body away from the bandages and trotted solemnly over to the fireplace.

He didn't travel straight ahead, as dogs ought to walk, but "cornerwise," as Patsy described it; and when he got to the hearth he rolled himself into a ball, lay down and went to sleep.
During this performance a tense silence had pervaded the room.

The Major looked at the dog rather gloomily; Uncle John with critical eyes that held a smile in them; Patsy with ecstatic delight.
"Isn't he a dear!" she exclaimed.
"It occurs to me," said the Major stiffly, "that this needs an explanation.