Toad of Toad Hall/Epilogue

It is spring again. The wind is whispering in the willows that fringe the river. Faintly we hear its elfin music. Among her daffodils lies MARIGOLD, in tumbled sleep. The dead leaves in the hollow rise and fall; they fall apart as an old gray BADGER heaves himself into the sunlight. Curiously he sniffs at MARIGOLD, and then lumbers away. A WATER-RAT twinkles out of his hole in the bank; a MOLE laboriously takes the air; they, too, pass the time of day with MARIGOLD before following in the wake of the BADGER. Last of all comes a TOAD. "Ah, Marigold, Marigold!" and so, waddling jauntily, after the others . . .

But NURSE is getting impatient. From afar her voice comes to us.

(MARIGOLD sighs gently, and stirs a little in her sleep.)