"[...]you, you ought to know better than to---" He broke off. She was laughing, a weak, uncertain little laugh. "A baby!" she said tremulously. "It isn't a baby; it's a cat." "A cat!" Micky's voice was full of disgust. He looked down at her from his superior height with sudden suspicion. If this was just a hoax? "Well, what's the matter anyway?" he asked again. She looked away from him without answering. Micky began to feel a bit of a fool; he wished he had not yielded to the impulse to follow her. After all, it was no business of his if a stranger chose to walk about his road and weep; he looked at her impatiently.[...]".