“Breakfast isn’t ready yet. I’ve had no time.”
“That’s all right. Let’s go out.”
“It’s fine,” he said, “this morning, fine.”
They walked in silence along the path smothered in weeds. The dripping undergrowth was shining. A sparrow chirped. And there, suddenly, was Minnie.
“Oh, Minnie.”
“So she has come out too. I don’t hate her so much to-day. Puss, puss.”
Darling Minnie, so sleek, and looking rather frightened of Father, the cold eyes watched him so closely. Webs of moisture clung to Minnie’s coat, making such a brave show, pearls on black velvet.
“Minnie.”
And he lifted a paw.
“Never mind, leave her alone. We’ve interfered with her hunting. Anyway she’ll want to be killing. Come on.”