KIKI-THE-DEMURE

May the gods preserve _me_ from anything of the sort! Here, the moments
have glided peacefully by. When She's not in this house, there's
nothing to hinder me; I employ the time as my system of hygiene
dictates. After my breakfast of rosy liver and milk, my kittenhood seems
to come back to me; I'm filled with a foolish gayety. I go over to him.
He's rumpling big, blackish papers and welcomes me with a quiet smile;
we loll on the same divan, and revel in a few idle moments together.
Sometimes, with imperious paw, I tear the paper He holds like a screen
between us. It always seems to me the most desirable--the one that
crackles best. He cries out, and I throw myself on my back and wriggle
with joy in a sort of horizontal dance, He calls "the dance of the
bayadeer." Then somehow, everything dwindles before my eyes, grows dim,
and far away; I want to rise and go back to my cushion, but dreams
already separate me from the world ... Ah! blessed hour when you and She
disappear, when the house is at rest and takes a long breath. Soon I'm
in the depths of a dark, sweet sleep; my ears alone keep watch and turn
like sensitive antennas towards vague sounds of doors and bells ...

(_At this moment someone rings_. TOBY-DOG _and_ KIKI-THE-DEMURE _start
and change their positions. The Cat, sitting, encircles himself with his
fluffy tail. The Dog, in a sphinx-like attitude, lifts his head
boldly_.)

KIKI-THE-DEMURE

What's that?