She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. For a long time neither spoke again. It doesn’t matter. When he said, “Let’s go and see the wart-hog,” she thought no one ever had had so quick a flow of good ideas as he; and when he explained that sugar and not buns was the talisman of popularity among the animals, she marvelled at his practical omniscience. I've despatched him to the New Prison.
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