...
TOBY-DOG, (_attentive and conscientious_)
I'm listening, but I can hardly follow what you say. It's so
complicated--a bit over my head, you know. But you astonish me! Are they
in the habit of hindering you in your changeful moods? You mew, and they
open the door. You lie on the paper--the sacred paper He's scratching
on--He moves away, marvelous condescension!--and leaves you his soiled
page. You meander up and down his scratching table, obviously in quest
of mischief, your nose wrinkled up, your tail giving quick little jerks
back and forth like a pendulum. She watches you laughing, while He
announces "the promenade of devastation." How then, can you accuse
Them--
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_insincere_)
I don't accuse Them. After all, psychological subtleties are not in your
line.
TOBY-DOG
Don't speak so fast. I need time to understand. It seems to me--
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_slyly_)
Pray, don't hurry! Your digestion might suffer in consequence.
TOBY-DOG, (_unconscious of the irony_)
You're right! I've some trouble in expressing myself to-day.--Well, here
goes: it seems to me that of the two of us it's you they make the most
of, and yet _you_ do all the grumbling.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25