She thought that her nerves were betraying her, as they had a way of doing since her husband's death.
Often when she fell asleep, there would come to her a strange and horrible nightmare.

It was such a queer, uncanny kind of dream for a grown-up woman to have! She used to dream that she was a rat--and that Colonel Crofton's own terrier, a fierce brute called Dandy, was after her.
"That's Flick! Perhaps I'd better go and let him out ?" Timmy jumped up as he spoke.

"I thought you didn't like dogs, Mrs.Crofton, and so I shut Flick up in your stable-yard.

I expect he's got bored, being in there all by himself, in the dark!" The boy's words brought delicious relief, and then, all at once, she felt unreasonably angry.

How stupid of this odious little fellow to have brought his horrid, savage dog with him--after what had happened the other night! Timmy shot out of the room and so through the front door, and Radmore got up too.