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 nel had always petted him, and that was what he missed now. It was not so much that his bed was uncomfortable, as it was that his dog heart craved love.

Love had always been lavished upon him even from his puppy days with old Jean. He had not known then what a priceless thing it was.

The following morning he crawled out very early. In the private car he had been in the habit of sleeping late, just as the actress did. But it was cold on this October morning, so he crawled out of his cornstalk bed and ran for half a mile to get warm.

There was frost on the dead grass. It was white and sparkling and very cold. Pierre had never seen any frost in sunny France.

First the Airedale slaked his thirst at