Then he put down the knife and took the sticky thing in his fingers and started very slowly to eat it.
“It's good, isn't it?” the Trunchbull asked. “Very good,” the boy said, chewing and swallowing.
He finished the slice. “Have another,” the Trunchbull said. “That's enough, thank you,” the boy murmured.
“I said have another,” the Trunchbull said, and now there was an altogether sharper edge to her voice.
“Eat another slice! Do as you are told!” “I don't want another slice,” the boy said.
Suddenly the Trunchbull exploded. “Eat!” she shouted, banging her thigh with the riding-crop.
“If I tell you to eat, you will eat! You wanted cake! You stole cake! And now you've got cake! What's more, you're going to eat it!”
“You do not leave this platform and nobody leaves this hall until you have eaten the entire cake that is sitting there in front of you!”
“Do I make myself clear, Bogtrotter? Do you get my meaning?” The boy looked at the Trunchbull.
Then he looked down at the enormous cake. “Eat! Eat! Eat!” the Trunchbull was yelling.
Very slowly the boy cut himself another slice and began to eat it.
Matilda was fascinated. “Do you think he can do it?” she whispered to Lavender.
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