Having frolicked enough among the flowers in the woods today, its hunting instincts satisfied, it joyfully stuck out its big tongue to lick Miss Anna's feet, making her giggle nonstop.
"Mm-hmm, you're right. I should really be your bullet and hound."
Eliot proudly tilted his chin.
In European culture, dogs symbolize loyalty.
Being compared to a dog often isn't meant as an insult; Thomas Cromwell was once fondly called "my little hound" by Henry VIII in court.
In this grand estate, the one closest to Anna, the only one who could make the often icy Miss truly smile, was probably the big dog named "August."
If anyone among the estate's staff could be intimately compared to a hound and bullet by Miss Elina.
Besides the old butler, in life, it could only be herself, the female secretary.
That African wild woman who just emerged a few months ago.
Hmph!
She's certainly not worthy.
