I had hardly smoothed my poor fur after Alice's ruffling when Susan chose to begin stroking me backwards again. She said:
"I'm thinking, Miss, about this letter that came on Friday night."
"Yes?" I said.
"Please, Miss, you never told me what you thought of it."
"What did you think yourself, Susan?"
Susan fidgeted about. At last she answered:
"I can't feel that it's right, Miss."
"What isn't right?"
"Him speaking that way, Miss, to a girl ... like me. It doesn't seem right."
"I don't understand, Susan."