“Percy had shrunk to the size of a chihuahua and was perched on the kitchen table watching me make a bacon and egg pie. I was trying to be surreptitious about the bacon but I could tell he,d noticed, which made conversation somewhat awkward.”
“I like eggs and bacon," George tells me. "But" - his face clouds - "do you know that bacon is" - tears leap to his eyes - "Wilbur?”
“You told me I smelled - like bacon.""Well," he said evenly. "That's awkward.”
“Which does a man prefer? Bacon and eggs, or worship? Sometimes one, sometimes the other, depending how hungry he is.”
“You worry too much. Eat some bacon...what? No, I got no idea if it'll make you feel better, I just made too much bacon.”
“He did not go much further, but sat down on the cold floor and gave himself up to complete miserableness, for a long while. He thought of himself frying bacon and eggs in his own kitchen at home - for he could feel inside that it was high time for some meal or other; but that only made him miserabler.”