She pulled it on to her lap and it curled round lazily.

Then she hoisted it on to her shoulder again, and, rising, crossed the room and bowed to the level of the cage, when the beast leaped in purring thunderously in high good humour.

Mr.Papadopoulos sang out in breathless delight: "If I am the King of Cats, you, Carissima, are the Queen.

Nay, more, you are the Goddess!" Lola Brandt laughed.

I did not.