"Three-fifty," the bartender said. "Three-fifty or I'm gonna force myself to call a cop."
George handed over the money and left hurriedly.
He sat near the front of the trolley car, hoping that no more frogs would fall. He could have walked home, but that would have taken much longer, and there might be more frogs. This way, he was taking a chance that they wouldn't fall in the trolley car, and, if they did, he'd ignore them.
Three more stops and George would be home. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. He would be safe then. He didn't want any more frogs falling in public. Not while he was around.
Something soft but firm pressed his lap, and George opened his eyes. He yowled. He couldn't help it. It was only a little yowl, but several people looked at him. And then they began to yowl, especially one buxom middle-aged lady. "It's indecent," she cried. "Utterly, thoroughly and obnoxiously indecent. Somebody call a policeman at the next corner."
The driver looked in the mirror, astonished, and nodded. George blinked his eyes, but when he opened them she was still there. She sat in his lap and she was very beautiful. She didn't have a stitch of clothing on.
"Please," George pleaded. "Go away! Please go away. Go away and put some clothing on and then come back if you want, but not like this!"
"You sent for me. You were in such a hurry you didn't even give me a chance to dress. Now you want to send me back. What's the matter, don't you like me?"
George felt the flush spread over his face; "Please," he said again. "Go away. Everyone's staring at us."