Mr. Meadow Mouse hastened to assure him that he didn't think him queer—not in the least!
"Thank you! Thank you!" Grandfather Mole said. "And since you're a[p. 74] person of more sense than I had supposed you're welcome to ramble through my halls—so long as you don't take anything except exercise and a stroll."
Then it was Mr. Meadow Mouse's turn to thank Grandfather Mole.
"I feel better," he said, "now that you've given me permission to come here. For to tell the truth, I've often felt that I was taking a chance."
So matters went on smoothly for a time. And Mr. Meadow Mouse spent hours in the gallery under the cornfield. And he grew fatter every day. Naturally he did not take such pains to dodge Grandfather Mole—after the talk they had had. And when the two met one evening Grandfather Mole stopped Mr. Meadow Mouse.
"There's something I want to say to you," he remarked. "I notice you're looking extremely well-fed. And I hope[p. 75] you're not eating any of my angleworms."
Mr. Meadow Mouse laughed right in Grandfather Mole's face.
"Oh, no!" he replied.
"Nor any of my grubs or bugs?" Grandfather Mole persisted.
"Certainly not!" said Mr. Meadow Mouse, making a wry face as he spoke—for he was rather a dainty person. And then he whispered something to Grandfather Mole.