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The pooch looking at you now is named Bentley. I met
him on a vacation in Hilton Head, S.C., this past fall, and he fascinated me
enough that I made him the subject of a prior post. Even though Nancy Mitford was an aristocrat with more high-toned tastes than mine, I don’t
think that Bentley would have had any trouble securing and sustaining her
affection, either.
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