CHAPTER VI. LOST!
Four of us were discussing abstract themes, idly, as men will, after a good dinner and in front of a country-house fire. Someone asked:
"What is the saddest sight in everyday life? I don't mean the most gloomily tragic, but the saddest?"
A frivolous member of the fireside group cited a helpless man between two quarreling women. A sentimentalist said:
"A lost child in a city street."
The Dog-Master contradicted:
"A lost dog in a city street."
Nobody agreed with him of course; but that was because none of the others chanced to know dogs—to know their psychology—their souls, if you prefer. The dog-man was right. A lost dog in a city street is the very saddest and most hopeless sight in all a city street's abounding everyday sadness.
A man between two qu
