Hazel: "What's this time, Fiver?"
Fiver: "There's a brown spot on my lettuce! Bring me a new one."
Hazel: "I have enough of your moaning! Go find your own Flayrah. I'm off!"
Fiver: "Then go you and find your own promised land, dear brother!"
Hazel: "Alright, alright, dear brother. Any other wishes?"
Fiver: "Send Hawkbit hither. With a fan. It's too hot here! And acquire Bigwig with my palanquin. My feet are dirty and hurting. Blackberry can prepare the pedicure. And organize a fox. Pipkin should fight it at my pleasure."
Hazel: "Hawkbit was right. We should never have left Sandleford in the first place..."