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"I'll get another cup," the dwarf said, limping hurriedly to a little cupboard set in the wall in a corner. "We won't use Eddie's, 'cause he might come along at any minute." He chuckled: it took him a moment, apparently, to find the cup. "Eddie won't miss his tea if he can help it—hee-hee! Great boy for cakes, is Eddie. Never mind; you an' me'11 have first piek, an' we won't leave him too much."

Hugh did not enjoy his meal, in spite of the delicacies. To be at such very close quarters with Toby was rather unpleasant: there was a horrid fascination in watching his dirty, claw-like hands, so much smaller than his own brown paws. And the high, excited voice, with its ceaseless chatter, tired him. He was very thirsty, and gulped down his tea hurriedly, finding it too heavily sweetened, even for him.

"Another cup? There's plenty in the pot," Toby squeaked.

"Yes, please. Could I have not so much sugar, please, Toby?"

"Did I give you too much? Sorry: I thought all boys like sugar. Eddie takes three spoonfuls, an' I'm nearly as bad—hee-hee!" He filled it carefully. "Now, there's a nice cup. Have another cake?" He did not press him when Hugh hesitated, but began a story of the ring which made the boy laugh in spite of himself as he drank his tea. He found that it was easy to laugh at Toby if he didn't look at him. Only, the cunning black eyes were hard to dodge, they watched him so narrowly.

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