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"He looked at me anxiously.
"'You take no interest in this problem?' he demanded.
"'Oh yes.'
"'Then why do you not ask me why?' he said, looking vaguely disappointed.
"'Well,' I said, in desperation, 'why do cats bite?--hang it all!' I thought, 'it's like a burned-cork show, and I'm Mr. Bones and he's Tambo!'
"Then he smiled gently. 'Young man,' he said, 'cats bite because they feed on catnip. I have reasoned it out.'
"I stared at him in blank astonishment. Was this benevolent-looking old party poking fun at me? Was he paying me up for the morning's snub? Was he a malignant and revengeful old party, or was he merely feeble-minded? Who might he be? What was he doing here in Antwerp--what was he doing now?--for the bald one had turned familiarly to the beautiful girl in white.
"'Wilhelmina,' he said, 'do you feel chilly?' The girl shook her head.
"'Not in the least, papa.'
"'Her father!' I thought--'her father!' Thank G.o.d she did not say 'popper'!
"'I have been to the Zoo to-day,' announced the bald one, turning towards me.
"'Ah, indeed,' I observed; 'er--I trust you enjoyed it.'
"'I have been contemplating the apes,' he continued, dreamily. 'Yes, contemplating the apes.'
"I tried to look interested.
"'Yes, the apes,' he murmured, fixing his mild eyes on me. Then he leaned towards me confidentially and whispered, 'Can you tell me what a monkey thinks?'
"'I cannot,' I replied, sharply.
"'Ah,' he sighed, sinking back in his chair, and patting the slender hand of the girl beside him--'ah, who can tell what a monkey thinks?'
His gentle face lulled my suspicions, and I replied, very gravely:
"'Who can tell whether they think at all?'
"'True, true! Who can tell whether they think at all; and if they do think, ah! who can tell what they think?'
"'But,' I began, 'if you can't tell whether they think at all, what's the use of trying to conjecture what they _would_ think if they _did_ think?'
"He raised his hand in deprecation. 'Ah, it is exactly that which is of such absorbing interest--exactly that! It is the abstruseness of the proposition which stimulates research--which stirs profoundly the brain of the thinking world. The question is of vital and instant importance. Possibly you have already formed an opinion.'
"I admitted that I had thought but little on the subject.
"'I doubt,' he continued, swathing his knees in his coat-tails--'I doubt whether you have given much attention to the subject lately discussed by the Boston Dodo Society of Pythagorean Research.'
"'I am not sure,' I said, politely, 'that I recall that particular discussion. May I ask what was the question brought up?'
"'The Felis domestica question.'
"'Ah, that must indeed be interesting! And--er--what may be the Felis do--do--'
"'Domestica--not dodo. Felis domestica, the common or garden cat.'
"'Indeed,' I murmured.
"'You are not listening,' he said.
"I only half heard him. I could not turn my eyes from his daughter's face.
"'Cat!' shouted the bald one, and I almost leaped from my chair. 'Are you deaf?' he inquired, sympathetically.
"'No--oh no!' I replied, coloring with confusion; 'you were--pardon me--you were--er--speaking of the dodo. Extraordinary bird that--'
"'I was not discussing the dodo,' he sighed. 'I was speaking of cats.'
"'Of course,' I said.
"'The question is,' he continued, twisting his frayed coat-tails into a sort of rope--'the question is, how are we to ameliorate the present condition and social status of our domestic cats?'
"'Feed 'em,' I suggested.
"He raised both hands. They were eloquent with patient expostulation.
'I mean their spiritual condition,' he said.
"I nodded, but my eyes reverted to that exquisite face. She sat silent, her eyes fixed on the waning flecks of color in the western sky.
"'Yes,' repeated the bald one, 'the spiritual welfare of our domestic cats.'
"'Toms and tabbies?' I murmured.
"'Exactly,' he said, tying a large knot in his coat-tails.
"'You will ruin your coat,' I observed.
"'Papa!' exclaimed the girl, turning in dismay, as that gentleman gave a guilty start, 'stop it at once!'
"He smiled apologetically and made a feeble attempt to conceal his coat-tails.
"'My dear,' he said, with gentle deprecation, 'I am so absent-minded--I always do it in the heat of argument.'
"The girl rose, and, bending over her untidy parent, deftly untied the knot in his flapping coat. When he was disentangled, she sat down and said, with a ghost of a smile, 'He is so very absent-minded.'
"'Your father is evidently a great student,' I ventured, pleasantly.
How I pitied her, tied to this old lunatic!
"'Yes, he is a great student,' she said, quietly.