Nevertheless, the sunshine, reflected from the facade of mean houses across the way, dazzled Tilda as she crossed the threshold of the great doorway and hopped down the steps.

There were five steps, and on the lowest she paused, leaning a moment on her crutch before taking the final plunge into liberty.
Then, while she stood blinking, of a sudden a yellowish brown body bounded at her out of the sun-dazzle, pushed her tottering, danced back, and leapt at her again, springing to lick her face, and uttering sharp, inarticulate noises from a throat bursting with bliss.
"'Dolph! O 'Dolph!" Tilda sank on the lowest step and stretched out both arms.

The dog, rushing between them, fairly bowled her backwards; lit in her lap and twisted his body round ecstatically, thrusting, nuzzling at her bosom, her neck, her face--devouring her with love.

In her weakness she caught him around the chest, close behind the forelegs, and hugged him to her.
So for a quarter of a minute the two rocked together and struggled.
"'Dolph! O good dog!.

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