There would be lights and talk; and perhaps Laddie himself might be allowed to slip in to his beloved cave.
But the man did not ring.

He did not stop at the door at all.

On tiptoe he skirted the veranda to the old-fashioned bay windows at the south side of the living room; windows with catches as old-fashioned and as simple to open as themselves.
Lad padded along, a pace or so to the rear;--still hopeful of being petted or perhaps even romped with.

The man gave a faint but promising sign of intent to romp, by swinging his small and very shiny brown bag to and fro as he walked.

Thus ever did the Master swing Lad's precious canton flannel doll before throwing it for him to retrieve.