She bit at the reins, and sank her sharp claws into the dangling balls.

For a fleeting instant, even, something like mischief gleamed in her big yellow eyes.

Then the jaws relaxed, the paws turned to velvet, and Spunkie's sleek gray head settled slowly back into lazy comfort.
Spunkie was asleep.
Billy gazed at the cat with reproachful eyes.
"And you, too, Spunkie," she murmured.

Then she got to her feet and went back to her chair.

This time she picked up a magazine and began to turn the leaves very fast, one after another.
Half-past nine came, then ten.