They were at play, she and her cat,And it was marvelous to markThe white paw and the white hand patEach other in the deepening dark.
The stealthy little lady hidUnder her mittens' silken sheathHer deadly agate nails that thridThe silk-like dagger-points of death.
The cat purred primly and drew inHer claws that were of steel filed thin:The devil was in it all the same.
And in the boudoir, while a shoutOf laughter in the air rang out,Four sparks of phosphor shone like flame.
