“Because I shan’t.”
“Then tell us what you meant before the Mouldiwarp comes.”
“You can’t,” said a little voice, “because it’s come now.”
Every one sat back on its heels, and watched where out of the earth the white Mouldiwarp was squeezing itself between two blocks of chalk, into the sunlight.
“Why, I hadn’t said any poetry,” said Elfrida.
“I hadn’t made the triangle and the arch,” said old Betty Lovell. “Well, if ever I did!”
“I’ve been here,” said the mole, looking round with something astonishingly like a smile of triumph, “all the time. Why shouldn’t I go where I do please, nows and again? Why should I allus wait on your bidding—eh?” it asked a little pettishly.
“No reason at all,” said Elfrida kindly; “and now, dear, dear Mouldiwarp, please take us away.”
A confused sound of shouting mixed with the barking of dogs hurried her words a little.
“The hunt is up,” said the old witch-nurse.