darling?"
Terry licked her cheek delicately.
"Talk to me, darling."
Terry gave a long lingering groan--almost a sigh, then
be nuzzled his nose in behind Joyce's ear.
"You trust me, don't you, angel? You know I'd never
leave you. But what are we going to do? We're right down
to it now, Terry."
She settled back further in the chair, her eyes half closed.
"Do you remember, Terry, all the happy times we used
to have? You and I and Michael and Daddy. Oh, Michael--Michael!
It was his first leave, and he wanted to give me
a present before he went back to France. And I told him
not to be extravagant. And then we were down in the country-and
it was all a surprise. He told me to look out of
the window, and there you were, dancing up the path on a
long lead. The funny little man who brought you, a little
man who smelt of dogs. How he talked. 'The goods, that's
what he is. Look at him, ma'am, ain't he a picture? I said
to myself, as soon as the lady and gentleman see him they'll
say: "That dog's the goods!"'
"He kept on saying that--and we called you that for
NEXT TO A DOG
221
quite a long time--the Goods! Oh, Terry, you were such a darling of a puppy, with your little head on one side,
wagging your absurd tail! And Michael went away to France
and I had you--the darlingest dog in the world. You read
all Michael's letters with me, didn't you? You'd sniff them,
and I'd say--'From Master,' and you'd understand. We
were so happy--so happy. You and Michael and I. And
now Michael's dead, and you're old, and I I'm so tired
of being brave."
Terry licked her.
"You were there when the telegram came. If it hadn't
been for you, Terry--if I hadn't had you to hold on to..." She stayed silent for some minutes.
"And we've been together ever since--been through all the ups and downs together--there have been a lot of downs,
haven't there? And now we've come right up against it.
There are only Michael's aunts, and they think I'm all right.
They don't know he gambled that money away. We must
never tell anyone that. I don't care--why shouldn't he?
Everyone has to have some fault. He loved us both, Terry,
and that's all that matters. His own relations were always
inclined to be down on him and to say nasty things. We're
not going to give them the chance. But I wish I had some
relations of my own. It's very awkward having no relations
at all.
"I'm so tired, Terry--and remarkably hungry. I can't believe I'm only twenty-nine--I feel sixty-nine. I'm not
really brave--I only pretend to be. And I'm getting awfully
mean ideas. I walked all the way to Ealing yesterday to see
Cousin Charlotte Green. I thought if I got there at half-past
twelve she'd be sure to ask me to stop to lunch. And then
when I got to the house, I felt it was too cadging for anything.
I just couldn't. So I walked all the way back. And
that's foolish. You should be a determined cadger or else
not even think of it. I don't think I'm a strong character."
Terry groaned again and put a black nose into Joyce's eye.
"You've got a lovely nose still, Terry--all cold like ice cream. Oh, I do love you so! I can't part from you. I can't
have you 'put away.' I can't .... I can't .... I can't .... "
220 Agatka Christie
began talkin to him in a soft low voice, twisting his eacs gently between her fingecs.
"What ace we going to do about Mrs. Barnes, Tercy?
We owe her four weeks--and she's such a lamb, Ten'y--such
a lamb. She'd never tm'n us out. But we can't take
advantage of her being a lamb, Ten-y. We can't do that.
Why does Barnes want to be out of we? I hate Barnes.
He's always getting chunk. And if you're always getting
dcunk, you ace usually out of work. But I don't get dunk,
Ten'y, and yet I'm out of work.
"I can't leave you, dacling. I can't leave you. There's
not even anyone I could leave you with--nobody who'd
be good to you. You're getting old, Tercyutwelve yeacs
old--and nobody wants an old dog who's cather blind and
a little deaf and a little--yes, just a little--bad-tempered.
You're sweet to me, dacling, but you're not sweet to everyone,
am you? You growl. It's because you know the world's
turning against you. We've just got each other, haven't we,
dacling?"
Terry licked her cheek delicately.
"Talk to me, darling."
Terry gave a long lingering groan--almost a sigh, then
he nuzzled his nose in behind Joyce's ear.
"You trust me, don't you, angel? You know I'd never
leave you. But what are we going to do? We're right down
to it now, Terry."
She settled back further in the chair, her eyes half closed.
"Do you remember, Terry, all the happy times we used
to have? You and I and Michael and Daddy. Oh, Michael--Michael!
It was his first leave, and he wanted to give me
a present before he went back to France. And I told him
not to be extravagant. And then we were down in the country-and
it was all a surprise. He told me to look out of
the window, and there you were, dancing up the path on a
long lead. The funny little man who brought you, a little
man who smelt of dogs. How he talked. 'The goods, that's
what he is. Look at him, ma'am, ain't he a picture? I said
to myself, as soon as the lady and gentleman see him they'll
say: "That dog's the goods!"'
"He kept on saying that--and we called you that for
L I .! I
NEXT TO A DOG 221
quite a long time--the Goods! Oh, Terry, you were such a darling of a puppy, with your little head on one side,
wagging your absurd tail! And Michael went away to France
and I had you--the darlingest dog in the world. You read
all Michael's letters with me, didn't you7 You'd sniff them,
and I'd say--'From Master,' and you'd understand. We
were so happy--so happy. You and Michael and I. And
now Michael's dead, and you're old, and I I'm so tired
of being brave."
Terry licked her.
"You were there when the telegram came. If it hadn't
been for you, Terry--if I hadn't had you to hold on to..." She stayed silent for some minutes.
"And we've been together ever since--been through all the ups and downs together--there have been a lot of downs,
haven't there? And now we've come right up against it.
There are only Michael's aunts, and they think I'm all right.
They don't know he gambled that money away. We must
never tell anyone that. I don't care--why shouldn't he7
Everyone has to have some fault. He loved us both, Terry,
and that's all that matters. His own relations were always
inclined to be down on him and to say nasty things. We're
not going to give them the chance. But I wish I had some
relations of my own. It's very awkward having no relations
at all.
"I'm so tired, Terry--and remarkably hungry. I can't believe I'm only twenty-nineI feel sixty-nine. I'm not
really brave--I only
pretend to be. And I'm getting awfully
mean ideas. I walked all the way to Ealing yesterday to see
Cousin Charlotte Green. I thought if I got there at half-past
twelve she'd be sure to ask me to stop to lunch. And then
when I got to the house, I felt it was too cadging for anything.
I just couldn't. So I walked all the way back. And
that's foolish. You should be a determined cadger or else
not even think of it. I don't think I'm a strong character."
Terry groaned again and put a black nose into Joyce's eye.
"You've got a lovely nose still, Terry--all cold like ice cream. Oh, I do love you so! I can't part from you. I can't
have you 'put away.' I can't .... I can't .... I can't .... "
222 Agatha Christie
The warm tOhue licked eagerly.
"You undersmi-so, my sweet. You'd do anything to help Missus, W%ldn,t you?"
Terry clambered down and went unsteadily to a corner.
He came back holding a battered bowl between his teeth.
,J,,o,y, cc ,was, m. dway between tears and laughter.
was ne aorg his only trick? The only thing he could
think of to help Missus. Oh, Terry--Terry--nobody shall
pat, s! I'd,do aqyth, ing' Would I, though? One says that--ana
tnen when 3'ou re shown the thing, you say, 'I didn't
mean anything like that.' Would I do anything?"
She got dowr on the floor beside the dog.
"You see, Te
:,, ,. ., Cry,
, s race ms. Nursery governesses can't
have dogs, and companions to elderly ladies can't have
dogs. Only married women can have dogs, Terrymlittle
fluggy expensive dogs that they take shopping with them--
and if one prefered an old blind terrier--well, why not?"
She stopped trowning and at that minute there was a
double knock fram below.
"The post. I Wonder."
She jumped tp and hurried down the stairs, returning
with a letter.
"It might be. ][f only..."
She tore it OPen.
Dear Mad. an'
We have respected the picture and our opinion is
that it is not a genuine Cuyp and that its value is
practically nil.
Yours truly,
Sloane & Ryder
Joyce stood hCqding it. When she spoke, her voice had
changed.
"That's that," she ........
, .
saa. l ne ast nope gone. tut we
won be parted; '¥here's a way--and it won't be cadging.
Terry darling, I n going out. I'll be back soon."
Joyce hurried lown the stairs to where the telephone
stood in a dark corer. There she asked for a certain number.
A man's voice anSkvered her, its tone changing as he realized
her identity.
NEXT TO A DOG
223
"Joyce, my dear girl. Come out and have some dinner and dance tonight."
"I can't," said Joyce lightly. "Nothing fit to wear."
And she smiled grimly as she thought of the empty pegs in the flimsy cupboard.
"How would it be if l came along and saTM you now? What's the address? Good Lord, where's that? Rather come
off your high horse, haven't you?"
"Completely."
"Well, you're frank about it. So long."
Arthur Halliday's car drew up outside the house about three quarters of an hour later. An awestruck Mrs. Barnes
conducted him upstairs.
"My dear girl--what an awful hole. What on earth has got you into this mess?"
"Pride and a few other unprofitable emotions."
She spoke lightly enough; her eyes looked at the man opposite her sardonically.
Many people called Halliday handsome. He was a big man with square shoulders, fair, with small, very pale blue
eyes and a heavy chin.
He sat down on the rickety chair she indicated.
"Well," he said thoughtfully. "I should say you'd had your lesson. I say--will that brute bite?"
"No, no, he's all right. I've trained him to be rather aa watchdog."
Halliday was looking her up and down.
"Going to climb down, Joyce," he said softly. "Is that it?"
Joyce nodded.
"I told you before, my dear girl. I always get what I want in the end. I knew you'd come in time to see which
way your bread was buttered."
"It's lucky for me you haven't changed your mind," said Joyce.
He looked at her suspiciously. With Joyce you never
knew quite what she was driving at.
"You'll marry me?"
She nodded. "As soon as you please."
"The sooner, the better, in fact." He laughed, looking round the room.
Joyce flushed. ,idon."
"By the way, there's a cont:.,,ici
"A conditiong" He looked s ', again.
"My dog. He must come wf ,, ha
"This old scarecrow? You/,,
any kind of a dog
you choose. Don't spare expe0 '
"I want Terry."
yourPlf.,,
"Oh! All right, please
Joyce was staring at him. that I
"You do know--don't you don't
love you? Not
in the least."
I'm
. .
no hanky-panky, my girl. If yo,,s c- me, you play fair."
The col°ur flashed into Joy wctks
You
will have your money ---, she smd.
"What about a kiss now?" ited,
He advanced upon her. She lps, kmiling' He took her
in his arms, kissing her face, h¢,.xl ,er neck. She neither
stiffened nor drew back. He re! ,,er at last.
"I'll get you a ring," he sa ' "at would you tike,
diamonds or pearls?"
largest
"A ruby," said Joyce. "The
ruby possible--the
colour of blood."
?That's 'an odd idea."
st to O
"I should like it to be a cout0uld e little half hoop of
pearls that was all that Michael kfford to give me."
"Better luck this time, eh?" 3rthtt¥ ,,
"You put things wonderfully'
·
Halliday went out chuckling--lic
"Terry," said Joyce. "Lick n,v n 5 hard--all over my
face and my neck--particularl 'rure k."
And as Terry obeyed, she r0eOJ h ,! reflectively:
"Thinking of something else ¢,0ug[ d--that s the only
way. You'd never guess what 1,vsel of--jam--jam in
a grocer's shop. I said it over t;"erh .' Strawberry, black
currant, raspberry, damson. All Dn't .s, Terry, he'll get
tired of me fairly soon. I hope sffiu"t Micyou? They say men
do when they're married to you. v .er' --"hael wouldn't have
-tred of me--never--neverf
Oh. Mchael...
NXT TO A DO
225
Joyce rose the next morning with a heart like lead. She gave a deep sigh and immediately Terry, who slept on her
bed, had moved up and was kissing her affectionately.
"Oh, darling--darling! We've got to go through with it. But if only something would happen. Terry darling, can't
you help Missus? You would if you could, I know."
Mrs. Barnes brought up some tea and bread and butter and was heartily congratulatory.
"There now, ma'am, to think of you going to marry that gentleman. It was a Rolls he came in. It was indeed. It quite
sobered Barnes up to think of one of them Rolls standing
ou
tside our door. Why, I declare that dog's sitting out on
the window sill."
"He likes the sun," said Joyce. "But it's rather dangerous. Terry, come in."
"I'd have the poor dear put out of his misery if I was you," said Mrs. Barnes, "and get your gentleman to buy
you one of them plumy dogs as ladies carry in their muffs."
Joyce smiled and called again to Terry. The dog rose awkwardly and just at that moment the noise of a dog fight
rose from the street below. Terry craned his neck forward
and added some brisk barking. The window sill was old
and rotten. It tilted and Terry, too old and stiff to regain
his balance, fell.
With a wild cry, Joyce ran down the stairs and out of the front door. In a few seconds she was kneeling by Terry's
side. He was whining pitifully and his position showed her
that he was badly hurt. She bent over him.
"Terry-Terry darling--darling, darling, darling--" Very feebly, he tried to wag his tail.
"Terry boy---Missus will make you better--darling boy---"
A crowd, mainly composed of small boys, was pushing round.
"Fell from the window, 'e did." "My, 'e looks bad."
"Broke 'is back as likely as not."
Joyce paid no heed.
"Mrs. Barnes, where's the nearest vet?"
"There's Jobling--round in Mere Street--if you could get him there."
"^ taxi."
226 Agatha Christie
"Allow me."
It was the pleasant voice of an elderly man who had just
alighted from a taxi. He knelt down by Terry and lifted the
upper lip, then passed his hand down the dog's body.
'T m afraid he may be bleeding internally," he said. "There
don.'t seem to be any bones broken. We'd better get him