She seizes me, poor swooning thing that I am, and plunges me in....
Ye Gods! From that time on I'm lost.... My one hope is in her. My eyes
fasten themselves on hers, while a close warmth sticks to me like
another skin on top of mine.... The brick's all foamy now ... I smell
tar ... my eyes and nostrils smart ... there are storms in my ears. She
grows excited, breathes loud and fast, laughs, and scrubs me
light-heartedly. At last She rescues me, fishing me out by the nape of
my neck, I paw the air, begging for life; then comes the rough towel and
the warm coverlet where, exhausted, I relish my convalescence....
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_deeply impressed_)
Calm yourself.
TOBY-DOG
Jove! The telling it alone!... But--you old sly-boots--didn't I see her
one day armed with a sponge standing over _you,_ holding _you_ down on
the toilet table?
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_quite embarrassed, lashing his tail_)
An old story! The long, fluffy hairs on my legs (which give them the
outline of a Zouave's) had somehow gotten dirty. She insisted upon
washing me. I persuaded her that I suffered atrociously under the
sponge.
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