From a pedigreed yellow pup I grew up to be an anonymous yellow cur looking like a cross between an Angora cat and a box of lemons. But my mistress never tumbled. She thought that the two primeval pups Noah chased into the ark were but a collateral branch of my ancestors. It took two policemen to keep her from entering me at the Madison Square Garden for the Siberian bloodhound prize.
One night twenty years ago, Helen was married to Frank Barry. John Delaney was best man. Both Frank and John had made a great race for Helen's hand. When Frank won, John shook his hand and congratulated him - honestly, he did.
But on the night of the wedding, both men disappeared.