Outside the chill wind stings and cuts,
Like angry kitten claws.”
David laid the note-book down. There! He had been right. He strode back to his chair. Myra returned to the room.
“I looked out of the dining-room window,” she said. “I could not see the cat. It is awful outside.”
She paused.
“Cats are such unfortunate creatures. In fact, all animals are unfortunate—animals domesticated by man. They never know when their masters are going to turn against them, or at least ignore them.”
“People treat cats that way because cats are good for nothing,” David put in. “Cats enter your home, eat your food, roll up on your bed, and do nothing. Rat traps are better for catching rats and mice. You don’t need cats in the scheme of things. They are worthless.”
“Yes,” added Myra softly, in a passionless voice. “A woman comes into your home, and eats your food, and spends your money, and curls up on your bed. A cook and a housekeeper can do better work than she.”
“There is no comparison,” cried David. “A woman at least shows you some affection—a cat never.”
“A woman shows affection when she knows that it is wanted,” Myra said in a distant voice.