She was too indignant to make any reply.
"After all," mused the Duke with admirable philosophy, "a tail isn't one thing or another with a cat—now a horse or a cow needs a tail to keep the flies away, a dog needs a tail to wag when he's happy, but a cat's tail——"
She stopped him with a majestic gesture. She was still atop of the ladder, and was too pretty to be ridiculous.
"It is useless arguing with you," she said coldly; "my mother will take steps to secure us freedom from a repetition of this annoyance."
"Send me a lawyer's letter," he suggested, "that is the thing one does in the suburbs, isn't it?"
He did not see her when she answered, for she had made a dignified descent from her shaky perch.
"Our acquaintance with suburban etiquette," said her voice coldly, "is probably more limited than your own."
"Indeed?" with polite incredulity.
"Even in Brockley," said the angry voice, "one expects to meet people——"
She broke off abruptly.