At least I know I'll enjoy it.
Beatrix sighed and watched as the macaque was carried away in his crate. “I wish I had a monkey of my own,” she said wistfully.
Miss Marks gave Poppy a long-suffering glance. “One might wish she were as eager to acquire a husband.”
“No, you’re a rabbit.”
“A rabbit?” Poppy made a face. “I don’t like that. Why am I a rabbit?”
“Oh, rabbits are beautiful soft animals who love to be cuddled. They’re very sociable, but they’re happiest in pairs.”
“But they’re timid,” Poppy protested.
“Not always. They’re brave enough to be companions to many other creatures. Even cats and dogs.”
“I was going to say that Mr. Rutledge is a cat. A solitary hunter. With an apparent taste for rabbit.”
"Leo smiled faintly. “I have no idea what you just said. But I suspect it’s something about battering Poppy’s new husband into forest mulch.”
“Let him speak,” the companion said.
Leo threw her an exasperated glance. “Blast it, Marks, do you ever tire of telling me what to do?”
“When you stop needing my advice,” she said, “I’ll stop giving it.”
“Cheer up, Marks,” he said briskly. “I’m sure that someday you, too, will find that one special person you can torment for the rest of your life.”
He was relieved to see her familiar scowl reassert itself.
“I’ve yet to meet a man who could compete with a good strong cup of tea.”