A muff?
No! Well, perchance those great fists would look something strange in one, and the day is fine and mild.
"So, if you are ready, friend Tom, we will sally forth.

To the coffee house first, and afterwards, an it please you, to the play.
"Farewell, Curley; I will bring you back your nursling safe and sound.

He shall not be rooked or robbed today.

But how long I shall be able to hold the cub in leading strings remains yet to be proved!" Tom was in far too good spirits to take umbrage at this name.

He felt anything but a cub as he walked down the street beside his scented and curled and daintily-arrayed companion, unconsciously striving to copy his jaunty step, and the little airs and graces of his manner.
"We will to the Folly," said Harry, as they stepped out into Holborn and turned their faces westward.