“And afterwards I gathered from the manager’s talk that our late companion’s skin had gone to make ladies’ gloves. But ... prepare your nerves, mesdames ... but, this is nothing.... In order to make the skin softer and more smooth, it must be taken from the living animal.”
Cries of despair broke in upon the poodle’s speech.
“How inhuman!”
“What mean conduct!”
“No, that can’t be true!”
“O Lord!”
“Murderers!”
“No, worse than murderers!”
After this outburst there was a strained and melancholy silence. Each of them had a mental picture, a fearful foreboding of what it might be to be skinned alive.
“Ladies and gentlemen, is there no way of getting all honourable dogs free, once and for all, from their shameful slavery to mankind?” cried Jack passionately.