It was the first time Lloyd had ever ventured to touch one.

He paused on the steps opposite the door, and looked in.
"Heah, Fritz," she was saying, "you get up on the sofa, an' be the company, an' I'll sing fo' you." Fritz, on the rug before the fire, opened one sleepy eye and closed it again.

She stamped her foot and repeated her order.

He paid no attention.

Then she picked him up bodily, and, with much puffing and pulling, lifted him into a chair.
He waited until she had gone back to the harp, and then, with one spring, disappeared under the sofa.
"N'm min'," she said, in a disgusted tone.