Toby watched him still kneeling in the grass. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Destroy it," he said promptly.
She smiled at him, the tears still on her cheeks. "That's fine of you.
Bunny, I haven't got a handkerchief."
He gave her his, still looking grim. She dried her eyes and got up. The hare, recovering somewhat, gave her a frightened stare and slipped away into the undergrowth. She looked up at Bunny.
"I'm sorry I was angry," she said. "Are you cross with me?"
He relaxed a little. "Not particularly."
"Don't be!" she said tremulously. "I couldn't help it. He suffered so horribly, and I know—I know so well what it felt like."
"How do you know?" said Bunny.
Her look fell before his. She made an odd movement of shrinking. He put his arm swiftly round her.
"Never mind the wretched hare! He's got away this time anyway. And I'm not at all sure you didn't have the worst of it. Feeling better now?"