Princess Arjumand’s gray-green eyes shone up at me. “Mere,” she said, and sauntered past me, tail in the air, jumped on the bed, and lay down in the middle of my pillow. This left me no room at all. Plus, Cyril snored. This in itself could have been got used to, but as the night progressed, it got louder and louder, till I was afraid it was going to wake the dead. Or Mrs. Mering. Or both.
