You might almost think they had a soul.
"Only this morning I was watching that tortoise-shell of yours on the
houseboat. She was creeping along the roof, behind the flower-boxes,
stalking a young thrush that had perched upon a coil of rope. Murder
gleamed from her eye, assassination lurked in every twitching muscle of
her body. As she crouched to spring, Fate, for once favouring the weak,
directed her attention to myself, and she became, for the first time,
aware of my presence. It acted upon her as a heavenly vision upon a
Biblical criminal. In an instant she was a changed being. The wicked
beast, going about seeking whom it might devour, had vanished. In its
place sat a long-tailed, furry angel, gazing up into the sky with an
expression that was one-third innocence and two-thirds admiration of the
beauties of nature. What was she doing there, did I want to know? Why,
could I not see, playing with a bit of earth. Surely I was not so evil-
minded as to imagine she wanted to kill that dear little bird--God bless
it.
"Then note an old Tom, slinking home in the early morning, after a night
spent on a roof of bad repute. Can you picture to yourself a living
creature less eager to attract attention? 'Dear me,' you can all but
hear it saying to itself, 'I'd no idea it was so late; how time does go
when one is enjoying oneself.
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