Judy threw back her head and laughed until the tears rolled down her face. “Oh, Mummy, isn’t he funny!” she cried.
Paddington, who didn’t think it at all funny, stood for a moment with one foot on the table and the other in Mr. Brown’s tea. There were large patches of white cream all over his face, and on his left ear there was a lump of strawberry jam.
“You wouldn’t think,” said Mrs. Brown, “that anyone could get in such a state with just one bun.”
Mr. Brown coughed. He had just caught the stern eye of a waitress on the other side of the counter. “Perhaps,” he said, “we’d better go. I’ll see if I can find a taxi.” He picked up Judy’s belongings and hurried outside.
Paddington stepped gingerly off the table and, with a last look at the sticky remains of his bun, climbed down onto the floor.
Judy took one of his paws. “Come along, Paddington. We’ll take you home, and you can have a nice, hot bath. Then you can tell me all about South America. I’m sure you must have had lots of wonderful adventures.”