William Bouguereau Le Jour

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And in another alleyway Gaspode sat muttering to himself.
‘Huh. Stay, he says. Givin’ me orders. Jus’ so’s his girlfriend doesn’t have to have a horrid smelly dog in her room. So here’s me, man’s best friend, sittin’ out in the rain. If it was rainin’, anyway. Maybe it ain’t rainin’, but if it was rainin’, I’d be soaked by now. Serve him right if I just upped and walked away. I could do itVictor.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ said Ginger, sniffing. ‘All right, you can turn around now. I’m in bed.’
Victor relaxed, and turned round. Ginger had drawn the covers up to her neck and was holding them there like a besieged garrison manning the barricades., too. Any time I wanted. I don’t have to sit here. I hope no‑one’s thinkin’ I’m sittin’ here because I’ve been told to sit here. I’d like to see the human who could give me orders. I’m sittin’ here ‘cos I want to. Yeah.’Then he whined for a bit and shuffled into the shadows, where there was less chance of being seen.In the room above, Victor was standing facing the wall. This was humiliating. It had been bad enough bumping into a grinning Mrs Cosmopilite on the stairs. She had given him a big smile and a complicated, elbowintensive gesture that, he felt certain, sweet little old ladies shouldn’t know.There were clinks and the occasional rustle behind him as Ginger got ready for bed.‘She’s really very nice. She told me yesterday that she had had four husbands,’ said Ginger.‘What did she do with the bones?’ said