"Not much," said Norton.
"And he must be miserable," said Matilda; "just that we may look at him."
"Do you wish he was back again where he came from?" said Norton; "all comfortable, with ice at his back and ice under his feet; where we couldn't see him?"
"But Norton, isn't it cruel?"
"Isn't what cruel?"
"To have him here, just for our pleasure? I am very glad to see him, of course."
"I thought you were," said Norton. "Why I suppose we cannot have anything, Pink, without somebody being uncomfortable for it, somewhere. I am very often uncomfortable myself."
Matilda was inclined to laugh at him; but there was no time. She had come face to face with the lions. Except for those low strange roars, they did not impress her as much as their neighbours from Bengal. But she studied them, carefully enough to please Norton, who was making a very delight to himself, and a great study, of her pleasure.
Further on, Matilda was brought to a long stand again before the wolf's cage. It was a small cage, so small that in turning round he rubbed his nose against the wall at each end; for the ends were boarded up; and the creature did nothing but turn round. At each end of the cage there was a regular spot on the boards, made by his nose as he lifted it a little to get round the more easily, and yet not enough to avoid touching. Yet he went round and round, restlessly, without stopping for more than an instant at a time.
"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" was again Matilda's outcry. "He keeps doing that all the time, Norton; see the places where his nose rubs."