.' said the Great Sloth; 'now say it again, very slowly indeed.' Lucy did so and the Great Sloth repeated after her: 'I wish I had a machine to draw up water for eight hours a day.' 'Don't,' it said angrily, looking back over its shoulder into the feather-bedded room, 'don't, I say.

Where are you shoving to?
Who are you?
What are you doing in my room?
Come out of it.' Something did come out of the room, pushing the Great Sloth away from the door.

And what came out was the vast feather-bed in enormous rolls and swellings and bulges.

It was being pushed out by something so big and strong that it was stronger that the Great Sloth itself, and pushed that mountain of lazy sloth-flesh half across its own inner courtyard.
Lucy retreated before its advancing bulk and its extreme rage.
'Push me out of my own feather-bedroom, would it ?' said the Sloth, now hardly sleepy at all.

'You wait till I get hold of it, whatever it is.' The whole of the feather-bed was out in the courtyard now, and the Great Sloth climbed slowly back over it into its room to find out who had dared to outrage its Slothful Majesty.
Lucy waited, breathless with hope and fear, as the Great Sloth blundered back into the inner room of its temple.