At the entrance to the tent, Hardyman noticed the dog at Isabel's heels, and vented his ill-temper, as usual with male humanity, on the nearest unoffending creature that he could find.

"Be off, you mongrel brute!" he shouted.

The tail of Tommie relaxed from its customary tight curve over the small of his back; and the legs of Tommie (with his tail between them) took him at full gallop to the friendly shelter of the cupboard in the smoking-room.

It was one of those trifling circumstances which women notice seriously.

Isabel said nothing; she only thought to herself, "I wish he had shown his temper when I first knew him!" They entered the tent.
"I'll read the names," said Hardyman, "and you find the cards and tear them up.