It was a habit of his to talk to himself. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde. ” “Change that to most, at least from my experience. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Quilt was not long in following his example. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws.
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