“Aslan， Aslan. Dear Aslan，” sobbed Lucy. “At last.”
The great beast rolled over on his side so that Lucy fell， half sitting and half lying between his front paws. He bent forward and just touched her nose with his tongue. His warm breath came all round her. She gazed up into the large wise face.
“Welcome， child，” he said. “Aslan，” said Lucy， “you’re bigger.”
“That is because you are older， little one，” answered he. “Not because you are？”
“I am not. But every year you grow， you will find me bigger.”
For a time she was so happy that she did not want to speak. But Aslan spoke.
“Lucy，” he said， “we must not lie here for long. You have work in hand， and much time has been lost today.”
“Yes， wasn‘t it a shame？” said Lucy. “I saw you all right. They wouldn’t believe me. They‘re all so.”
From somewhere deep inside Aslan’s body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.
“I‘m sorry，” said Lucy， who understood some of his moods. “I didn’t mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn‘t my fault anyway， was it？”
The Lion looked straight into her eyes.
