I should never have _dared_!" Garth, coming out of the tobacconist's shop across the way, joined the little knot of people just in time to hear Sara answer cuttingly, as she put the terrier into its owner's arms-- "You've no business to _have_ a dog if you've not got the pluck to look after him!" As she and Trent bent their steps homeward, Sara regaled him with the full, true, and particular account of the dog-fight, winding up indignantly-- "Foul women like that ought not to be allowed to take out a dog licence.
I hate people who shirk their responsibilities." "You despise cowards ?" he asked.
"More than anything on earth," she answered heartily.
He was silent a moment.

Then he said reflectively-- "And yet, I suppose, a certain amount of allowance must be made for--nerves." "It seems to me it depends on what your duty demands of you at the moment," she rejoined.

"Nerves are a luxury.

You can afford them when it makes no difference to other people whether you're afraid or not--but not when it does." "And from what deeps did you draw such profound wisdom ?" he asked quizzically.
Sara laughed a little.
"I had it well rubbed into me by my Uncle Patrick," she replied.

"It was his _Credo_." "And yet, I can understand any one's nerves cracking suddenly--after a prolonged strain." "I don't think yours would," responded Sara contentedly, with a vivid recollection of their expedition to the island and its aftermath.
"Possibly not.