"Go on; sign my name to the letter." "That's forgery.

You ought to sign your name yourself," said Erebus.
"No; you write my name better than I do; and it will go better with the rest of the letter.

Sign away," said the Terror firmly.
Erebus signed away, and then she said: "But what good's the money going to be to us, if we've got to spend it on a silly old cats' home?
It only means a lot of trouble." The guilelessness deepened and deepened on the Terror's face.

"Well, you see, there aren't many cats in Little Deeping--not enough to fill a cats' home decently," he said slowly.

"We should have to have bicycles to collect them--from Great Deeping, and Muttle Deeping, and farther off." Erebus gasped; and the light of understanding illumined her charming face, as she cried in a tone of awe not untinctured with admiration: "Well, you do think of things!" "I have to," said the Terror.