To the wild beast with the scarred and shaggy head she must become a necessary, an accepted thing.
One repulse did not dishearten her.

Again and again she made the trial.
She remembered having read that no animal can resist the thoughtful patience of thinking man, and hour after hour she was there, until a new light in the eye of the wolf-dog warned her that the true master was coming.
Then she fled, and from a post of vantage in the house she would watch the two.

An intimacy surpassing the friendships and devotions of human beings existed between them.

She had seen the wolf lie with his great head on the foot of his master and the unchanging eyes fixed on Barry's face--and so for an hour at a stretch in mute worship.

Or she had watched the master go to the great beast to change the dressing--a thing which could not be done too often during the day.