pin out of its head, and threw it into the street.
"You beastly cat!" he cried with inexpressible fury. "You'll never stop our sleeping again!"
Signor Petito had dragged himself to his feet, entirely at a loss to know what face to put upon the matter, inasmuch as Madame Longuet, in her nightgown, was assiduously pointing at him a large, shining, nickel-plated revolver. He only found the phrase:
"I beg your pardon: I thought you were in the country."
But it was M. Longuet who came to him, took between his thumb and first finger one of Signor Petito's long ears, and said:
"And now, my dear Signor Petito, we are going to have a little talk!"
Marceline lowered the barrel of the revolver; and at the sight of his calm courage, gazed at her husband in an ecstasy of admiration.
"You see, my dear Signor Petito, I am calm," said Theophrastus. "Just now, indeed, I was in a devil of a temper, but that was against that infernal cat which prevented us from sleeping. So I threw it out of the window. But cheer up, Signor Petito, I am not
