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."
"You're joking."
"What odds? And how much? But remember, I warned you."
"Oh, piffle!" The inspector reached into Gwen's purse- gave a yelp as she
snatched her hand out. "It bit me!" She stuck her fingers into her mouth.
"That's what he's there for," said Gwen. "I warned you. Are you hurt? Let
me see."
The two women inspected the hand, each decided that red marks were the
extent of the damage. "That's good," said Gwen. "I've been trying to teach him
to grasp firmly but not to break the skin. And never, never bite fingers off.
He's learning; he's still young. But you shouldn't have been able to get your
hand back that easily. Alfred is supposed to hang on like a bulldog while the
radio alarm causes me to come a-running."
"I don't know anything about bulldogs but he certainly tried to take my
finger off."
"Oh, surely not! Have you ever seen a dog?"
"Just dressed-out carcasses in meat markets. No, I take that back; I saw
one in Tycho Zoo when I was a little girl. Big ugly brute. Scared me."
"Some are small and some aren't ugly. A bulldog is ugly but not very big.
What a bulldog is best at is biting and hanging on. That's what I'm training
King Alfred to do."
'Take him out and show him to me."
"No indeed! He's a guard beast; I don't want him getting petted and cooed
over by other people; I want him to bite
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