the possible entry points of mice. And every few feet more he would turn his head around to look at George, turning the corner of its mouth upwards into what, on a human face, would have beena sneer.Whenever this happened, George would glance concernedly at every part of the roomexcept that which held the cat. “Robert, I really must insist that you get rid of that cat.”“Get rid of him? Never.” Robert smiled easily at George and waved his hands about, as if to imply that George had intended it as a joke. “He’s the most clever cat that I’ve ever heard of.Why only yesterday, your wife asked to borrow him so that he could take care of your mice. Andhave you ever heard of a cat that could mimic human expression? No, Charles stays.” Then, asan afterthought, he added, “You’ll just have to learn to get along with him.”“I doubt very much if that is even possible. He hates me.”Robert sighed his amusement. “Well then, don’t. But I’ve some news on this regicidewhich is remarkably interesting. You might want to grab onto something, lest you should fallover in fright.” He gestured to an edge of the table.However, before George grasp the table, Charles-the-cat leapt upon it.George gasped. “Where in God’s name did he come from? He was in that corner just amoment ago.”The corner to which George gestured, and in which the cat
been just a moment ago,contained a number of crystal vases. Each of these was still wobbling slightly and glinting in theevening sun.