(He jumps down from the console-table, without making the least noise.)
TOBY-DOG, (stopping him)
What are you going to do?
Scratch at the door, and strike up the “Hymn of the Sequestered Cat.”
TOBY-DOG, (indicating the figure on the couch)
And doubtless waken Her?
I’ll sing in a very small voice.
And you’ll scratch with your tiniest claws, I suppose? Stay here quietly, He commanded it when He went away.
Does He command me? He beseeches me, and that’s my only reason for obeying him.
(He sits down again, apparently resigned, and yawns slowly.)
You make me yawn.
On the contrary, it’s you who bore me. (Temptingly.) You’re thinking what a good thing freedom is, aren’t you?... A hen has probably escaped from the chicken yard—what sport you’re missing!
You really think so?
I said: probably.... Have you finished exploring that rabbit’s hole?
No ... it’s so very deep! I almost buried myself, hollowing it out yesterday. The earth that stuck to my muzzle had some of the animal’s fur in it....
KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (more and more satanic)
I suppose you’ll finish that to-morrow ... or some other day. TOBY-DOG, (sadly)
Why not say next year, while you’re about it?
What’s the matter with you? Your shiny black lip hangs down an ell, and your froggy eyes glitter with tears. Are you crying?
Poor, sensitive heart, console yourself. You’ll have your pleasures and your friends again. At this very moment the farmer’s dog is crunching bones in the kitchen ... to beguile the long wait for you.
Oh! oh! the farmer’s dog!
She’s not alone either; that great dane, the watch-dog, keeps her company.
That’s not true!
TOBY-DOG, (after one bound toward the door) No, that would make noise.