He was still in this position, making persuasive little noises, when the door opened, and Avery Hill, his companion of a previous occasion, entered. At the sight of Krafft crouching on the floor, she paused with her hand on the door, and looked from him to Maurice.
"Heinz?" she said interrogatively. Then she saw the saucer of milk, and understood. "Heinz!" she said again; and this time the word was a reprimand.
"Ssh!—be quiet," said Krafft peevishly, without looking up.
The girl took no notice of Maurice's attempt to greet her. Letting fall on the grand piano, some volumes of music she was carrying, she continued sternly: "Another cat!—oh, it is abominable of you! This is the third he has picked up this year," she said explanatorily, yet not more to Maurice than to herself. "And the last was so dirty and destructive that Frau Schulz threatened to turn him out, if he did not get rid of it. He knows as well as I do that he cannot keep a cat here."
Her placidly tragic face had grown hard; and altogether, the anger she displayed seemed out of proportion to the trival offence.
Krafft remained undisturbed. "It's not the least use scolding. Go and make it right with the old crow.—Come, puss, come."
The girl checked the words that rose to her lips, gave a slight shrug, and went out of the room. They heard her, in the passage, disputing with the landlady, who was justly indignant.
"If it weren't for you, Fraulein, I wouldn't keep him another day," she declared.
Meanwhile the cat, which, in the girl's presence, had shrunk still further into its hiding-place, began to make advances. It crept a step forward, retreated again, stretched out its nose to sniff at the milk, and, all of a sudden, emerged and drank greedily.
Krafft touched its head, and the animal paused in its hungry gulping to rub its back against the caressing hand. When the last drop of milk was finished, it withdrew to its corner, but less suspiciously.