“You needn’t talk,” said Edred, still under his breath.
“Very well,” said the mole, whose ears were sharper than his eyes. “I won’t.”
“Oh, don’t!” sighed Elfrida; “what is it we are to do when we’ve been nice to each other for a whole day?”
“Well, when you’ve done that,” said the mole, “look for the door.”
“What door?” asked Elfrida.
“The door,” said the mole.
“But where is it?” Edred asked.
“In the house it be, of course,” said the mole. “Where else to gracious should it be?”
And it ran with mouse-like quickness across the grass and vanished down what looked like a rabbit-hole.
“Now,” said Elfrida triumphantly, “you’ve got to believe in the mole.”