* * * * *
But to return to the evening of Mrs. Crofton's second visit to Old Place.
Timmy had given his mother his word of honour that Flick should not be
released from the stable till their visitor had left. But no casuist
ever realised more clearly than did Timothy Tosswill, the delicate
distinctions which spread, web-like, between the spirit, and the letter,
of a law. And while he moved nimbly about his bedroom, the plan, or
rather the plot he had formed, took formal shape.
Josephine, Timmy's white Angora cat, was now established in a comfortable
basket in a corner of the scullery. There she lay, looking like a ball of
ermine, with her two ten-days old kittens snuggling up close to her.
Josephine was a nervous, fussy mother, but she was devoted to her master,
and he could do with her anything he liked.
Very softly he crept past Nanna's door, and as he started walking down
the back staircase, he heard voices.
Then Betty and Godfrey were still in the scullery? That was certainly a
bit of bad luck, for though he thought he could manage his godfather, he
knew he couldn't deceive Betty. Betty somehow seemed to know by instinct
when he, Timmy, was bent on some pleasant little bit of mischief.
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