“Her Majesty may well have seen a lion，” put in Trumpkin. “There are lions in these woods， I‘ve been told. But it needn’t have been a friendly and talking lion any more than the bear was a friendly and talking bear.”
“Oh， don‘t be so stupid，” said Lucy. “Do you think I don’t know Aslan when I see him？”
“He‘d be a pretty elderly lion by now，” said Trumpkin， “if he’s one you knew when you were here before！ And if it could be the same one， what‘s to prevent him having gone wild and witless like so many others？”
Lucy turned crimson and I think she would have flown at Trumpkin， if Peter had not laid his hand on her arm. “The DLF doesn’t understand. How could he？ You must just take it， Trumpkin， that we do really know about Aslan； a little bit about him， I mean. And you mustn‘t talk about him like that again. It isn’t lucky for one thing， and it‘s all nonsense for another. The only question is whether Aslan was really there.”
“But I know he was，” said Lucy， her eyes filling with tears.
“Yes， Lu， but we don’t， you see，” said Peter.
“There‘s nothing for it but a vote，” said Edmund.
“All right，” replied Peter. “You’re the eldest， DLF What do you vote for？ Up or down？”