Троє в човні крім собаки

           Montmorencywentforthatpoorcatattherateoftwentymilesanhour;butthecatdidnothurryup—didnotseemtohavegraspedtheideathatitslifewasindanger. Ittrottedquietlyonuntilitswould-beassassinwaswithinayardofit,andthenitturnedroundandsatdowninthemiddleoftheroad,andlookedatMontmorencywithagentle,inquiringexpression,thatsaid: 

           "Yes!Youwantme?" 

           Montmorencydoesnotlackpluck;buttherewassomethingaboutthelookofthatcatthatmighthavechilledtheheartoftheboldestdog. Hestoppedabruptly,andlookedbackatTom. 

           Neitherspoke;buttheconversationthatonecouldimaginewasclearlyasfollows:— 

           TheCat:"CanIdoanythingforyou?" 

           Montmorency:"No—no,thanks." 

           TheCat:"Don’tyoumindspeaking,ifyoureallywantanything,youknow." 

           Montmorency(backingdowntheHighStreet): "Oh,no—notatall—certainly—don’tyoutrouble.I—IamafraidI’vemadeamistake.IthoughtIknewyou.SorryIdisturbedyou." 

           TheCat:"Notatall—quiteapleasure.Sureyoudon’twantanything,now?" 

           Montmorency(stillbacking): "Notatall,thanks—notatall—verykindofyou. Goodmorning." 

           TheCat:"Good-morning." 

           Thenthecatrose,andcontinuedhistrot;andMontmorency,fittingwhathecallshistailcarefullyintoitsgroove,camebacktous,andtookupanunimportantpositionintherear.