"She shrieked. "Nora! What happened to the banister!" Good thing she hadn't seen her bedroom yet."

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But worse things were about to be found in the bedroom: on the jeweller’s wife’s ottoman, in a casual pose, sprawled a third party- namely, a black cat of uncanny size, with a glass of vodka in one paw and a fork, on which he had managed to spear a pickled mushroom, in the other. , The Master and Magarita

— Mikhail Bulgakov