Cicely set her teeth.
Then—
“Toby dear,” she purred, “I left my coat in the car.”
“That’s right,” said her squire. “I saw you. Hangin’ over the door.”
“If I had it, Toby, I could make it into a pillow and go to sleep—too.”
“So you could,” said Toby.
There was a silence.
“But—but it’s in the car, Toby dear.”
“I know,” murmured Rage. “Hangin’ over the door.” He sighed. “If you do go and get it, you might bring me back my pouch. But don’t go on purpose.”
There was another silence.