Jim got to his feet and spoke lovingly to the Staffordshire. If England had six of you, we shouldn’t need no army,€ he said. Come home and get your supper, you Misguided Missile.

Bill and Jim had been much too occupied to notice the black dogs streaming out of the van and out of the dark garage into the mews. Snow had been falling for hours, so that London was all white. The pups had scarcely noticed the snow while they were running away from Cruella’s car. Now they at once fell in love with this beautiful feathery stuff it raised their spirits wonderfully. And they felt well rested after their sleep in the van. They were still hungry, but they didn’t mind that much because they were expecting a wonderful supper. Hearing them counting on this, poor Missis felt more anxious than ever.

Bill, Jim, and the Staffordshire had gone out of the garage by another way, so Pongo let the pups play in the snowy mews for a few minutes. Then Missis persuaded the Cadpig to get back into her cart, and off they went. Because of the snow there were very few people about which was just as well, as the army of black dogs was now very noticeable against the white streets. The only person who saw them was an elderly gentleman on his way to a late party. He rubbed his eyes, then shook his head and murmured, And I haven’t even begun Christmas yet.€

It took only a few minutes to reach the Outer Circle. How beautiful Regent’s Park looked, snowy under the stars!

Pongo said, Missis, do you remember what I told you when we said good-bye to the park?

Missis answered, You told me to think of the day when we would come back with fifteen puppies running behind us. And now we have ninety-seven.€

They had not come back to the Outer Circle by the way they had left it, but were at the other side of the park, close to Cruella de Vil’s house. As they drew near to it, Pongo saw that every window was dark, so he thought it would be safe to call a moment’s halt.

Look, pups,€ he told them. That is our enemy’s house.€

Lucky said, May we scratch it and bite it?€

You would only hurt your nails and your teeth,€ said Pongo, looking up at the huge house.

Missis was looking down into the area. Something moved there something only a little less white than the snow. It was Cruella’s Persian cat.

Her back was arched, and she was spitting angrily. Pongo said quickly, Madam, none of us would ever dream of hurting you.€

The white cat said, That’s the civilest speech I ever had from a dog. Who are you? There are no black dogs round here. €