It seemed very nice!
I thought in opposite directions in the following moments, and all the time my nose was being assailed by a very savoury odour, for the cookery smelt very good.
“You won’t have none—will you?” said Shock, without looking at me.
“No,” I said shortly; “it isn’t good to eat. You might as well eat rats.”
“I like rats,” he replied, coolly taking out his knife from one pocket, a piece of bread from the other; and to my horror he rapidly ate up the hedgehog, throwing the bones on the fire as he picked them, and ending by rubbing the tin plate over with a bit of old gardener’s apron which he took from the wall.
“Well,” I said sarcastically, “was it nice?”
“Bewfle!” he said, giving his lips a smack and then sighing.
“Did you say you eat rats?” I continued.
“Yes.”
“And mice too?”