"I don't know, Minky."
"I know. You've come back, and it isn't like what you thought it would be."
"No," he said, "it isn't…. I didn't think it would be so awful without
Papa."
II.
The big package in the hall had been opened. The tiger's skin lay on the drawing-room carpet.
Mark was sorry for the tiger.
"He was only a young cat. You'd have loved him, Minky, if you'd seen him, with his shoulders down—very big cat—shaking his haunches at you, and his eyes shining and playing; cat's eyes, sort of swimming and shaking with his fun."
"How did you feel?"
"Beastly mean to go and shoot him when he was happy and excited."
"Five years without any fighting…. Anything else happen?"