CHAPTER VI
In Which the Heroine Takes Advice
Philomène ran down the garden walk, her mind in a turmoil. Queen Mab was trotting to meet her along the path, and as soon as she caught sight of her pet, she knelt down on the gravel and held out her arms to it. “O Queen Mab, Queen Mab,” she cried, “I am so happy! It seems it doesn’t matter being ordinary, if only the Good People love one.” The cat had scrambled upon her lap in an instant, and was rubbing a white velvety head against her arm, and l*****g her hand with a little tongue as rough as it was red. Philomène carried her p***y into the schoolroom, and set it down on the bearskin hearth-rug; then she glanced curiously at the canary in his cage, but he was pecking at the seeds in his seed-trough, and took no notice of her.
Before nightf
