Vincent did not jump or startle very noticeably. He merely wiped his wet eyes with his sleeve and said, “You are very quiet, little Maria. Had the door not given you away, I would have not known you were there. Maybe I should call you Little Mouse.”
He beckoned me closer and laughed a little at the disgusted look that crossed my face at the thought of my new name. I obeyed all the same and crossed the room to him.
“You do not like Little Mouse?”
“No, I do not like mice. They are vile and leave their droppings wherever they eat. They are pests.”
He laughed again.
“I will not argue with you on that point. Perhaps a cat? A mouse would not have been able to move that big door, but a cat could do the job. Besides, you are scornful like a cat, and I think you not as meek as a mouse. I could call you Little Cat.”
“Is not a little cat a kitten?”
“Yes, you are right, but that does not suit you, Maria. Even though you are a child, it is hard for me to see you as such, and a kitten is a child cat. No, I think Little Cat is perfect for you.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish