The Hundred and One Dalmatians Modern Classic. Dodie Smith

hair was just the same. She had one white plait and one black.’

      Mr Dearly thought how lucky he was to be married to Mrs Dearly and not to Cruella de Vil. He felt sorry for her husband. Pongo and Missis felt sorry for her white cat.

      The golden sunset had gone now and the blue twilight had come. The park was nearly empty and a park-keeper was calling, ‘All out, all out!’ in a far-away voice. There was a faint scent of hay from the sun-scorched lawns, and a weedy, watery smell from the lake. All the houses on the Outer Circle that had been turned into Government Offices were now closed for the night. No light shone in their windows. But the Dearlys could see welcoming lights in their own windows. And soon Pongo and Missis sniffed an exquisite smell of dinner. The Dearlys liked it, too.

      They all paused to look down through the iron railings at the kitchen. Although it was in the basement, this was not at all a dark kitchen. It had a door and two large windows opening on to one of the narrow paved yards which are so often found in front of old London houses. The correct name for these little basement yards is ‘the area’. A narrow flight of steps led up from the area to the street.

      The Dearlys and the dogs thought how very nice their brightly lit kitchen looked. It had white walls, red linoleum, and a dresser on which was blue-spotted china. There was a new-fashioned electric stove for the cooking, and an old-fashioned kitchen fire to keep the Nannies happy. Nanny Cook was basting something in the oven, while Nanny Butler stacked plates on the lift which would take them up through the dining-room floor as if delivering the Demon King in a pantomime. Near the fire were two cushioned dog-baskets. And already two superb dinners, in shining bowls, were waiting for Pongo and Missis.

      ‘I hope we haven’t tired Missis,’ said Mr Dearly, as he opened the front door with his latch-key.

      Missis would have liked to say she had never felt better in her life. As she could not speak, she tried to show how well she felt, and rushed down to the kitchen lashing her tail. So did Pongo, looking forward to his dinner and a long, fire-lit snooze beside his dear Missis.

      ‘I wish we had tails to wag,’ said Mr Dearly.

      CRUELLA DE VIL’S dinner party took place in a room with black marble walls, on a white marble table. The food was rather unusual.

      The soup was dark purple. And what did it taste of ? Pepper!

      The fish was bright green. And what did it taste of ? Pepper!

      The meat was pale blue. And what did that taste of ? Pepper!

      Everything tasted of pepper, even the ice-cream – which was black.

      There were no other guests. After dinner, Mr and Mrs Dearly sat panting in the red marble drawing-room, where an enormous fire was now burning. Mr de Vil panted quite a bit, too. Cruella, who was wearing a ruby satin dress with ropes of emeralds, got as close to the fire as she could.

      ‘Make it blaze for me,’ she said to Mr de Vil.

      Mr de Vil made such a blaze that the Dearlys thought the chimney would catch fire.

      ‘Lovely, lovely!’ said Cruella, clapping her hands with delight. ‘Ah, but the flames never last long enough!’ The minute they died down a little, she shivered and huddled herself in her absolutely simple white mink cloak.

      Mr and Mrs Dearly left as early as they felt was polite, and walked along the Outer Circle trying to get cool.

      ‘What a strange name “de Vil” is,’ said Mr Dearly. ‘If you put the two words together, they make “devil”. Perhaps Cruella’s a lady-devil! Perhaps that’s why she likes things so hot!’

      Mrs Dearly smiled, for she knew he was only joking. Then she said: ‘Oh, dear! As we’ve dined with them, we must ask them to dine with us. And there are some other people we ought to ask. We’d better get it over before Missis has her puppies. Good gracious, what’s that?’

      Something soft was rubbing against her ankles.

      ‘It’s Cruella’s cat,’ said Mr Dearly. ‘Go home, cat. You’ll get lost.’

      But the cat followed them all the way to their house.

      ‘Perhaps she’s hungry,’ said Mrs Dearly.

      ‘Very probably, unless she likes pepper,’ said Mr Dearly. He was still gulping the night air to cool his throat.

      ‘You stroke her while I get her some food,’ said Mrs Dearly. And she went down the area steps and into the kitchen on tiptoe, so as not to wake Pongo and Missis who were asleep in their baskets. Soon she came up with some milk and half a tin of sardines. The white cat accepted both, then began to walk down the area steps.

      ‘Does she want to live with us?’ said Mrs Dearly.

      It seemed as if the white cat did. But just then Pongo woke up and barked loudly. The white cat turned and walked away into the night.

      ‘Just as well,’ said Mr Dearly. ‘Cruella would have the law on us if we took her valuable cat.’

      Then they went down into the kitchen to receive the full force of Pongo’s welcome. Missis, though sleepy, was fairly formidable, too. There was a whirling mass of humans and dogs on the kitchen hearthrug – until Mrs Dearly remembered, far too late, that Mr Dearly’s dress suit would be covered with white hairs.

      It must have been about three weeks later that Missis began to behave in a very peculiar manner. She explored every inch of the house, paying particular attention to cupboards and boxes. And the place that interested her most was a large cupboard just outside the Dearlys’ bedroom. The Nannies kept various buckets and brooms in this cupboard and there wasn’t a spare inch of space. Every time Missis managed to get in, she knocked something over with a clatter and then looked very ill-treated.

      ‘Bless me, she wants to have her puppies there,’ said Nanny Cook.

      ‘Not in that dark, stuffy cupboard, Missis, love,’ said Nanny Butler. ‘You need light and air.’

      But when Mrs Dearly consulted the Splendid Veterinary Surgeon, he said what Missis needed most was a small, enclosed place where she would feel safe, and if she fancied the broom cupboard, the broom cupboard she’d better have. And she’d better have it at once and get used to it – even though the puppies were not expected for some days.

      So out came the brooms and buckets and in went Missis, to her great satisfaction. Pongo was a little hurt that he was not allowed to go with her, but Missis explained to him that mother dogs like to be by themselves when puppies are expected, so he licked his wife’s ear tenderly, and said he quite understood.

      ‘I hope the dinner party won’t upset Missis,’ said Mr Dearly, when he came home and found Missis settled in the cupboard. ‘I shall be glad when it’s over.’

      It was to be that very night. As there were quite a lot of guests the food had to be normal, but Mrs Dearly kindly put tall pepper grinders in front of the de Vils. Cruella ground so much pepper that most of the guests were sneezing, but Mr de Vil used no pepper at all. And he ate much more than in his own house.

      Cruella was busy peppering her fruit salad when Nanny Butler came in and whispered to Mrs Dearly. Mrs Dearly looked startled, asked the guests to excuse her, and hurried out. A few minutes later, Nanny Butler came in again and whispered to Mr Dearly. He looked startled, excused himself and hurried out. Those guests who were not sneezing made polite conversation. Then Nanny Butler came in again.

      ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said, dramatically, ‘puppies are arriving earlier than expected. Mr and Mrs Dearly ask you to remember that Missis has never before been a mother. She needs absolute quiet.’

      There was an instant silence, broken only by a stifled sneeze. Then the guests rose, drank a whispered toast to the young mother