She longed to enjoy human food as he did. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. He could not make good his hold. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. Parbleu, but she was a fool. She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. "You should be glad to be made an honest woman. ‘But you will not be in a convent. F.
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