The mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scent and the sounds and the sunlight he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams. The water rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily on and forbore to disturb him.
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Kenneth Grahame: Wind in the Willows
The mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scent and the sounds and the sunlight he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams. The water rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily on and forbore to disturb him.
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