A chance find turned into a responsibility: the stray picked up in passing now doesn't leave his benefactor's side for a moment. Trotsky would be glad to find a purpose for the wolf cub, but where to place a rootless wildling who is rude, insolent, and bows to no one? The painter takes him to acquaintances and relatives, bows, pleads, and the stubborn little beast only grins in response. Will the carefree gentleman have the patience to see the venture through to the end, or will the new amusement bore him within a day?