The Dog, in a sphinx-like attitude, lifts his head
boldly_.)
KIKI-THE-DEMURE
What's that?
TOBY-DOG
A tradesman?
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_shrugging his shoulders_)
That's not the kitchen bell. Perhaps it's caller.
TOBY-DOG, (_with a bound_)
What luck! They'll have tea and cakes! Come on!! Sugar, sugar! Little
cakes! Little cakes!!
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_gloomily_)
To see ladies who shriek, and put gloved hands on my back--hands covered
with dead skin?... ugh!
(_Feminine voices are heard--Hers among them--and the clear tinkling of
a little bell; then the door opens and a very diminutive toy terrier
enters, alone. She's black and tan, seems in love with herself, and
comes forward with a mincing step_.)
THE LITTLE DOG, (_voice way up in her head_)
I'm the darling little dog, so pretty!
(TOBY _is struck dumb with admiration and astonishment_. KIKI,
_indignant, has jumped on top of the piano and remains an unseen and
hostile spectator_.)
THE LITTLE DOG, (_astonished at not hearing the chorus of admiration
that everywhere greets her, is reciting_--)
I'm the darling little dog, so pretty! I weigh only one pound, eleven
ounces, my collar is of gold, my ears of black satin, lined with shiny
rubber, my nails are polished like the beaks of little birds.
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