It wasn’t so horrible, really, she thought, swinging her slim legs over the wood, but I ought to get a tablecloth.

Gazing at the row of cracked splinters, she remembered it all. Oh, but who cared, really. In retrospect, it had been quite a moronic idea in the first place. There was no reason not to get up.

So, cautiously, Belle arose from the ancient table and shook the dust from her dress. So far, so good. She padded across the room, and Pita made up his mind to accompany her. The darling kitty.

The doorknob looked more inviting today than ever. To be sure, she had no desire to leave the riches of her comfort zone for the loud and eye-searing colors of the outside world, but she so needed a tablecloth; anyway, it would probably be a healthy experience for her. Dr. Polker always said that difference was a good thing.

So with a deep breath, Belle twisted the knob.

Nothing happened.

Someone had barred the door shut.