Reserving judgement

Nell: I wish David wouldn’t sit there with that bone hanging out of his mouth. He looks like a reprobate.

Me: It’s his gangster look and I think he is adorable.

Nell: You would. What did you think of tea yesterday?

Me: The scones were delicious as always and those mini quiches were inspired.

Nell: I meant that French rook Tour de France.

Me: He certainly charmed the socks off everyone.

Nell: Yes. I was rather glad to see Mutley was wearing his socks as well as a beret. There is still a decided chill in the air.

Me: I’m not sure he quite believed our disguises.

Nell: No. We came across as eccentric, though, which is equally good and Harriet was perfect as Mademoiselle Écarlate.

Me: I even forgot it was Harriet under that veil.

Nell: She did well. The Cat doesn’t like him, of course.

Me: Why not?

Nell: Cats and rooks don’t mix. It’s a well known fact.

Me: The Cat gets on well with Malcolm and Susan.

Nell: Malcolm is a shy flamingo and Susan is a quiet seagull. The Cat appreciates good manners.

Me: Tour has good manners. It’s probably a bit jealous of Dave’s new friendship with him.

Nell: If you want jealous just look at Gladys. Pirouetting into Tour was not an accident you know. It took a lot of skill and planning.

Me: She is not a happy bunny.

Nell: She is not a bunny at all. She is a black Pomeranian. What are you talking about?

Me: Well, I liked him.

Nell: I’m reserving judgement. A smiling dog can still bite.

Me: He is a rook, Nell.

Nell: Exactly. A Dalmatian never changes its spots.

Me: You mean a leopard.

Nell: No, I don’t. Do keep up.

Me: Oh. I see. Sorry.

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