"Not a bit of it," was the reply as the hostess led the way in; "I never take anything that doesn't belong to me."
There was a cheerful fire blazing in the living-room and Eliza was at once seated before it and made to feel for a second time like an honored guest.
"I'll let Pluto out, first thing, if you don't mind," she said, and unfastened the basket.
Mr. Wright, his eyes indolently curious under the rumpled grey hair, watched the proceeding.
"A Manx cat," he remarked as the prisoner leaped out. Pluto's green eyes blazed in the moment that he stood and looked about him.
"Here, poor thing," said Eliza, "your troubles are over. There's a fire such as you've never seen in all your days."
But the outraged cat scorned the fire, scorned even Eliza's caressing hand. Leaping from her touch he descried the lounge; and thanking the gods of his Egyptian ancestors that at last he had reached a place where furniture accorded hiding-places, he dashed into the darkest corner its valance concealed.
"He's kind o' put out by all he's been through," said Eliza apologetically.
Mr. Wright went to the couch and stooping lifted the valance.
"Shall I get him for you?" he asked.