“Fidelis, sweet Fidelis,” she said, coaxingly. “Come to me, sweetheart. Who gave you gingerbread yesterday?” Evidently, Fidelis remembered the gingerbread. He stopped barking and drew nearer. Beatrice put her hand on his head, then leaned down and breathed on him, long and steadily over his entire face. The black dog sat, then lay down as though tired, and twitched for a moment. And then he was still.
