CHAPTER VI
THE CAT
Fearing that it could be a thief, Franco armed himself with an umbrella and began wandering cautiously from room to room with his heart in his throat, until something shot between his feet like a rocket, making him gasp.
The little cat, with its shiny black fur, was now staring at him from on top of the desk, slowly wagging his tail. He was soaking wet from the tip of his tail to the top of his ears and had stopped right next to the typewriter.
Franco turned on the light and noticed that the cat had left some paw marks on the pages of his novel. A sudden wave of anger swept over him from head to toe; he felt as if that animal had dared to desecrate his work.
"And who are you? What are you doing here, look what you've done!" he scolded him harshly, even though he did
