Then
Quast came. He could not understand how the accident had occurred.
Hephaestus had never before tried to attack her. She had absolute
mastery over him, and he usually behaved with her as gently as any of
the other cats. With himself it was quite different. He was accustomed
to Hephaestus springing at him; but then he beat him hard with a great
stick until he was so sore that he could neither stand up nor lie down.
"I have always implored Madame to carry something heavier than that
silly little whip, and now it's all over. She will never be able to
control him again. Hephaestus will have to be killed, and I will be
desolate. Ach, what a misfortune!"
He began to weep.
"Good God!" I cried; "you don't mean to say that you're sorry for the
brute?"
"One can't help being fond of him. We have been for five years
inseparable companions!"
I had no sympathy to fling away on him at that moment.
"How do you account for his spring at Madame to-night? That's all I want
to know."
"She must have been thinking of something else when she grabbed him.
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