why, perhaps because my nose has grazed the long hairs on your legs
you're so proud of--you become all at once a savage beast, spitting
fire, and charging at me like a strange dog. Don't you think that shows
a bad character?

KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_mysterious, eyes half-closed_)

Not at all. It's character, simply. A Cat's character. In such moments
of irritability, I'm keenly alive to the humiliation of my present
state, and that of my race.

I can remember a time when priests in long, linen tunics, bending low,
spoke to us and humbly tried to comprehend our chanted utterance. Know,
dog, that it is not _we_ who have changed! It may be, there are days
when I'm more myself, when everything offends me, and justly; a brusque
gesture, a vulgar laugh, the banging of a door, your odor, your
inconceivable impudence when you touch me, or encircle me, jumping and
yelping ...

TOBY-DOG, (_patiently, to himself_)

He's having one of his attacks.

KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_with a start_)

Did you hear?

TOBY-DOG

Yes, the kitchen door, and the door into the dining-room ... and now the