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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Won't you please let me bury Bunnie and Snowball before I go upstairs to penance? I can dig a grave in the corner of my little garden and plant verbena and cypress vine over it." She shivered as if the thought had chilled her heart, and her voice trembled, while she pressed the stiffened forms to her, breast. "Come along as fast as you can, dear, you are wanted in the parlour.
Her eyes brightened, and, rising swiftly, she flung herself down beside him upon the sofa, where he still sat clutching it as if it were a bucking horse. Then, curling one foot under her, she bent toward him, all eagerness, all impulsiveness. With breathless intensity she inquired: "Tell me, Bunnie, is she pretty?" "Very pretty, indeed," he said, lamely. "What's she like? Quick!
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