"Thank you," said I, shortly, "but I don't eat watercresses."
"You don't eat 'em," returned Mr. Pumblechook, sighing and nodding
his head several times, as if he might have expected that, and as
if abstinence from watercresses were consistent with my downfall.
"True. The simple fruits of the earth. No. You needn't bring any,
William."
I went on with my breakfast, and Mr. Pumblechook continued to stand
over me, staring fishily and breathing noisily, as he always did.
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