human
Where’s that damned cat I was so afraid of yesterday? Well, you make me think of that. You were once, unless I was mistaken, a nice little mouse of a thing, pretty well scared of the conventional cat—the world, you know. Then came the whiskey lickings, your talent. I’m afraid you’re drunk, child, drunk as a lord. But there you are, all the same, with your back up against the wall, defying the cat. Well, you’re thirty-two, and although you were afraid of the cat, you certainly know something about the animal. I agree with you that we were not suited to one another, and I’m ready to let your soulmate have a show. I do not quite know how to do it, but if you think you will not be defrauding him too much—and if your sense of duty will permit, give me time to get my breath and I swear I’ll think up some sort of