Page:The history of Mr. Polly.djvu/139

 It was almost irresistibly fascinating to think how immensely a few words from him would excite and revolutionise Minnie. She was sitting at the table with a workbasket among the tea things, mending a glove in order to avoid her share of clearing away.

“I like cats,” said Minnie after a thoughtful pause. “I’m always saying to mother, ’I wish we ’ad a cat.’ But we couldn’t ’ave a cat ’ere—not with no yard.”

“Never had a cat myself,” said Mr. Polly. “No!”

“I’m fond of them,” said Minnie.

“I like the look of them,” said Mr. Polly. “Can’t exactly call myself fond.”

“I expect I shall get one some day. When about you get your shop.”

“I shall have my shop all right before long,” said Mr. Polly. “Trust me. Canary bird and all.”

She shook her head. “I shall get a cat first,” she said. “You never mean anything you say.”

“Might get ’em together,” said Mr. Polly, with his sense of a neat thing outrunning his discretion.

“Why! ’ow d’you mean?” said Minnie, suddenly alert.

“Shop and cat thrown in,” said Mr. Polly in spite of himself, and his head swam and he broke out into a cold sweat as he said it.

He found her eyes fixed on him with an eager expression. “Mean to say” she began as if for verification. He sprang to his feet, and turned to the window. “Little dog!” he said, and moved doorward hastily.