“It’s good. You’ve got the swing and everything.”

Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴍɪss Fʟɪᴛᴡᴏʀᴛʜ.

“But why one blade of grass at a time?”

Bill Door regarded the neat row of stalks for some while.

Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀʏ?

“You can do lots in one go, you know.”

Nᴏ. Nᴏ. Oɴᴇ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. Oɴᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴏɴᴇ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ.

“You won’t cut many that way,” said Miss Flitworth.

Eᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, Mɪss Fʟɪᴛᴡᴏʀᴛʜ.

“Yes?”

Tʀᴜsᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs.