I was enchanted. How few are the times when my friend Annabel Lee is like this, warm and friendly and lightly contemptuous and inclined to grotesquerie.
'Tis so that she becomes human and someway near to me.
"Yes, I should say Mary MacLane, and Mary MacLane, and Mary MacLane, and me," said my friend Annabel Lee from her gently-puffed clouds. "There are times when you are soft and satisfying as a gray pussy-cat. If I stroke you, you will purr. If I give you cream, you will lap it up. And then you will curl up warmly in my lap and sleep and purr and open and shut your little fur paws.
'I will sit by the fire
And give her some food,
And pussy will love me
Because I am good.'
And give her some food,
And pussy will love me
Because I am good.'
