After the murder of your priceless specimen, here's Stoffles cleaning her fur in one of her serenest Anglo-Saxon attitudes."
So she was. My husband looked grave as I described the scene. "Didn't I tell you so?" said the Engineer, "and this beast, I take it, is worse than any cobra."
I can easily believe he was right. From the gland of the said beast, as I afterwards learned, they extracted enough poison to be the death of twenty full-grown human beings.
Tightly clasped between its minute teeth was found (what interested me more) a few long hairs, late the property of Stoffles.
Stoffles, however—she is still with us—has a superfluity of long hair, and is constantly leaving it about.
G. H. Powell.
