A little later a black serving man came out and pulled a small table from a corner of the porch, arranging it deftly with doilies, and in less than five minutes the girls were eating chicken sandwiches and drinking tea—to be sure, they were not allowed to drink tea at home, but Zee said truly that their nerves required something out of the ordinary. And there was a small silver basket of chocolates on the table—
"Isn't that lucky?" said the Curious Cat, eying the candy greedily. "It is my one and only weakness. Apart from chocolate I am free from worldly affectations. But chocolate—I eat it with every meal, and take a piece to bed at night. Without it I am become as a ravening wolf and a—a thirsting camel. It does seem rather a refined and ladylike accomplishment for one as rough and rude as I—one of the eccentricities of Nature, who played me many pranks."
"Yes," said Treasure politely.
"However do you suppose the Corduroy Crab—"
"Zee!"
"The what?"
"Oh, excuse me— He won't tell, Treasure. We call him the Corduroy Crab because he was so disagreeable, you know. I was just—"
"Pardon the interruption—but do you mind telling me by what particular form of endearment you designate me?"
"The—the Curious Cat," said Zee, though Treasure kicked her smartly under the table. "Because you were so cattish to us, making fun of us, and laughing. Very catty thing to do. And we added the Curious because you really are awfully—queer, you know."
"And what were you wondering about the Crab?"