‘What!’ said Tavy, half-way into his night-shirt.
‘I said, I don’t wonder, Octavius,’ said the China Cat, and rose from her sitting position, stretched her china legs and waved her white china tail.
‘You can speak?’ said Tavy.
[p152]
‘Can’t you see I can?—hear I mean?’ said the Cat. ‘I belong to you now, so I can speak to you. I couldn’t before. It wouldn’t have been manners.’
Tavy, his night-shirt round his neck, sat down on the edge of the bed with his mouth open.
‘Come, don’t look so silly,’ said the Cat, taking a walk along the high wooden mantelpiece, ‘any one would think you didn’t like me to talk to you.’
‘I love you to,’ said Tavy recovering himself a little.
‘Well then,’ said the Cat.
‘May I touch you?’ Tavy asked timidly.
‘Of course! I belong to you. Look out!’ The China Cat gathered herself together and jumped. Tavy caught her.