KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (shrugging his shoulders)
That's not the kitchen bell. Perhaps it's caller.
TOBY-DOG, (with a bound)
What luck! They'll have tea and cakes! Come on!! Sugar, sugar! Little cakes! Little cakes!!
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (gloomily)
To see ladies who shriek, and put gloved hands on my back—hands covered with dead skin?... ugh!
(Feminine voices are heard—Hers among them—and the clear tinkling of a little bell; then the door opens and a very diminutive toy terrier enters, alone. She's black and tan, seems in love with herself, and comes forward with a mincing step.)
THE LITTLE DOG, (voice way up in her head)
I'm the darling little dog, so pretty!
