Ting-a-ling

With Ting-a-ling under his arm, and treading on tiptoe, Michael entered.

The White Monkey 2004

Ting-a-ling, long, low, slightly higher at both ends, was standing between them, with black muzzle upturned.

The White Monkey 2004

But Ting-a-ling was tired, only the tip of one ear quivered.

The White Monkey 2004

Placing his forepaws against the settee, Ting-a-ling licked the air.

The White Monkey 2004

Shaking the two extended hands, he gazed at Ting-a-ling, and said:

The White Monkey 2004

Ting-a-ling uncurled himself, and putting his forepaws on her thigh, looked up in her face.

The White Monkey 2004

The conduct of Ting-a-ling was the sole other subject of consideration.

The White Monkey 2004

The couch of Ting-a-ling occupied a corner, whence he could see himself in three.

The White Monkey 2004

She was never very comfortable when he was about — lively and twisting, but with something settled and ancestral in him; a little like Ting-a-ling — something judgmatic, ever telling her that she was fluttering and new.

The White Monkey 2004

He became conscious of his calf — Ting-a-ling was sniffing at his trousers.

The White Monkey 2004