"Yes, my little friend, mad or not mad, she's deserved death--and no one
must go near her till the fell deed is done!" And then, as he suddenly
caught sight of Timmy's strained, agonised face, he added kindly: "She'll
be in the cats' heaven before she knows she's touched. I'll come down in
the morning and I'll shoot her through the window myself--I'm a dead
shot, Timmy, my boy."
As Janet came along, Timmy burst out crying, and his mother, distracted,
turned to Radmore. "Oh, Godfrey, do get him away upstairs! He's tired
out, that's what it is. Unfortunately the cat belongs to him, and he's
very fond of her--he's almost as fond of Josephine as he is of Flick."
Radmore put his hand on his godson's shoulder. "Come, Timmy, don't cry.
It's unmanly."
But Timmy, instead of making an effort to control himself, wrenched
himself away and ran down the long corridor towards the kitchen. Even as
a tiny child he had hated to be caught crying.
There followed an absurd scene at the front door, Jack and Rosamund
almost quarrelling as to which of them should accompany Mrs. Crofton
home. In the end they had both gone, and Janet, ordering everyone else
to bed, sat up, wearily awaiting their return, for neither of them had
thought of taking a latchkey.
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