They sat sipping wine at a table overlooking the city a couple of hundred feet below, and were quiet long enough for him to say to her, We have tilted away from being gregarious like dogs to being as self-possessed as cats.  She looked at him indifferently, enough for him to wonder if he had meant the two of them, as he had thought when he said it, or people in general, as he now thought of it.  She said, quietly, What’s not changed is that we’re still animals.