Belle sat down with a martyred air. She was not in the best of tempers, and she did not like waiting. She put the basket of blackberries by her side, and took Micky on her knee. Then, for want of anything better to do, she began to tease him by pulling the silky hair that grew round his eyes.
"Don't do that, Belle," said Isobel, looking round suddenly at the sound of Micky's protesting yelps.
"Why not?" asked Belle, somewhat sharply.
"Because you're hurting him."
"I'm not hurting him."
"Yes, you are."
"I suppose I can do as I like with him; he's my own."
"He's not yours to tease, at any rate. Belle, do stop!"
"I'll please myself; it's nobody else's affair," said Belle, giving such a tug as she spoke to Micky's silken top-knot that he howled with misery.
Isobel sprang up. She could not bear to see an animal suffer, and her anger for the moment was hot.