Lord Loudwater was paying attention neither to his breakfast nor to
the cat Melchisidec. Absorbed in a leader in The Times newspaper,
now and again he tugged at his red-brown beard in order to quicken
his comprehension of the weighty phrases of the leader-writer; now
and again he made noises, chiefly with his nose, expressive of
disgust. Lady Loudwater paid no attention to these noises. She did
not even raise her eyes to her husband's face. She ate her
breakfast with a thoughtful air, her brow puckered by a faint
frown. She also paid no attention to her favourite, Melchisidec.
Melchisidec, unduly excited by the smell of grilled sole, came to
Lord Loudwater, rose on his hind legs, laid his paws on his
trousers, and stuck some claws into his thigh. It was no more than
gentle, arresting pricks; but the tender nobleman sprang from his
chair with a short howl, kicked with futile violence a portion of
the empty air which Melchisidec had just vacated, staggered, and
nearly fell.
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