Loretta grew reckless. Fanning her wings, in one lightning stroke she bit him between his flattened ears.
The pain of it enraged Tomasso. With a jump, he met her.
Then ensued such a scene as the kitchen knew. There was mewing and spitting and yowling; there was gawking and squalling and a rending cry for “Tony!” All the while, close to the gold of Ophir, the cat and the parrot went dizzily around and around, a whirligig of gray, scarlet, and black–that tossed off fur and feathers.
It was over in a moment, when Tomasso fled, over path and grass, and into a dusky recess between the trunks of fir and pine. There he lay down, sulking and grum-
