and Byrne stood still to watch them. One dog was grey, as is usual, the
other pale fawn. They raved extravagantly at the two pedestrians. Helena
laughed at them.

'They are--' she began, in her slow manner.

'Villa sheep-dogs baying us wolves,' he continued.

'No,' she said, 'they remind me of Fafner and Fasolt.'

'Fasolt? They _are_ like that. I wonder if they really dislike us.'

'It appears so,' she laughed.

'Dogs generally chum up to me,' he said.

Helena began suddenly to laugh. He looked at her inquiringly.

'I remember,' she said, still laughing, 'at Knockholt--you--a half-grown
lamb--a dog--in procession.' She marked the position of the three with
her finger.

'What an ass I must have looked!' he said.

'Sort of silent Pied Piper,' she laughed.

'Dogs do follow me like that, though,' he said.

'They did Siegmund,' she said.