He threw the ball to his friend the bounding, tasselled cat, and went straight to her, and without waiting for any greeting she said to him:

“John, I love you, and I must see you alone at once. I must come into your cage and talk to you there.”

“No, Josephine, don’t—that’s not possible,” said Cromartie. “I can’t go on seeing you like this even, and surely you see that if you were to come into my cage I could not bear it after you had gone away.”

“But I don’t want to go away,” said Josephine.

“If you were ever to come inside my cage you would have to stay forever,” said Cromartie. He had recovered himself now, his moment of weakness was past. “And if you don’t decide to do that, I don’t think we can go on seeing each other at all. I think I shall die if I see you like this. We can never be happy together.”

“Well, we had better be unhappy together than unhappy apart,” said Josephine. She had suddenly begun to cry.

“My darling creature,” said Cromartie, “it’s all a silly mistake; but we will arrange things somehow. I’ll get the curator to have you in the next cage to me instead of that damned nigger, and we shall see each other all the time.”

Josephine shook her head vigorously to get the tears out of her eyes, like a dog that has been swimming.

“No, that won’t do,” she declared angrily, “that won’t do at all. It has got to be the same cage as yours or I won’t live in a cage at all. I haven’t come here to live in a cage by myself. I’ll share yours and be damned to everyone else.”

She gave an angry laugh and shook her yellow hair back. Her eyes sparkled with tears, but she looked steadily at Cromartie. “Damn other people,” she repeated; “I care for nobody in the world but you, John, and if we are going to be put in a cage and persecuted, we must just bear it. I hate them all, and I’m going to be happy with you in spite of them. Nobody can make me feel ashamed now. I can’t help being myself and I will be myself.”

“Darling,” said Cromartie, “you would be wretched here. It’s awful; you mustn’t think of it. I have a much more sensible plan. I can’t ask them to let me go. Anyhow I shan’t do that. But I am still so feeble that I can easily make myself really ill again, and then I think they will let me go and we can get married.”

“That won’t do,” said Josephine. “We can’t wait any longer, and you would die if you tried that. There was nothing about your not being allowed to marry in the contract when you came here, was there?” she asked. “You have only got to tell them that you are going to get married today, and that your wife is ready to live in your cage.”