"
"I'll not do it," said John. "She's too noble."
"Just for fun!"
"There's no fun in comparing a woman to a cat."
"There is if she doesn't know it. Come, begin!" And the parson laid one long
forefinger on one long little finger and waited for the first specification.
"Fineness," said John, thinking of a certain woman.
"Fondness for a nap," said the parson, thinking of a certain cat.
"Grace," said John.
"Inability to express thanks," said the parson.
"A beautiful form," said John."A desire to be stroked," said the parson.
"Sympathy," said John.
"Oh, no!" said the parson; "no cat has any sympathy. A dog has: a man is
more of a dog."
"Noble-mindedness," said John.
"That will not do either," said the parson. "Cats are not noble-minded; it's
preposterous!"
"Perfect case of manner," said John.
"Perfect indifference of manner," said the parson."
"No vanity," said John.
"No sense of humour," said the parson.
"Plenty of wit," said John.
"You keep on thinking too much about some woman," remonstrated the parson,
slightly exasperated.
"Fastidiousness," said John.
"Soft hands and beautiful nails," said the parson, nodding encouragingly.
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