Work Text:
"…Only I shan't know what to do with myself, dearest Ratty and darling Mole—though no doubt your calendar is sacrosanct—"
The Rat harrumphs. "Yes, we've a fair few things in want of minding—" He cuts off when Mole's elbow gently but pointedly pokes into his side: their agreed-upon signal he ought to let Mole do the talking.
Then Mole says, quite hopefully, "Perchance, Toad, will those lovely little pies be on offer?"
Toad's face lights up as to make one quite forget he was so lately on the verge of tears. "O! Yes, and the biscuits you love too..."