One of the mice had escaped into the glove box. He snatched her in midair. And almost immediately released her when he felt the sharp nip of pain. She had bitten right through the glove. At once he pulled his hands out of the box, quickly peeled off the gloves, and stared at his finger. A drop of blood welled up, the sight of it so unexpected, he felt nauseated. He closed his eyes berating himself. This was nothing -barely a prick. The mouse's rightful vengeance for all those he had stuck in them. He opened his eyes again but the nausea was still there.