‘I felt sure that would interest you, sir.’
‘And where did you find it, Madame Lamarque?’
‘In the cellar—I heard a little cry—miaow, miaow, miaow! and I said to myself, “That must be a cat!”’
‘No! did you actually say that?’
‘Yes, and I went down myself, sir, and found the poor little thing behind the sticks. Then I recollected how you had once said, “We ought to have a cat in the house.”’
‘Did I say so? I think you are making a mistake, Madame Lamarque.’
‘Indeed, sir, you did say so. Then I said to myself, “Providence has sent us the cat which my master wishes for.” And now there is one question I must ask you, sir. What shall we call the cat?’
‘We will call it Mysouff, if you have no objection. And please be careful, Madame Lamarque, that it does not eat my quails and turtle-doves, or any of my little foreign birds.’
‘If M. Dumas is afraid of that,’ said Michel, coming in, ‘there is a method of preventing cats from eating birds.’
‘And what is the method, my good friend?’