"There'll be something in it for all tastes," went on the old woman, "even for Prince Udo's."
"I'm not so particular as all that," said Udo mildly. The room had just become five hundred yards long again, and he was feeling quiet.
"Not now, but you will be."
She filled them a plate each from the pot; and pulling their chairs up to the table, they fell to heartily.
"This is really excellent," said Udo, as he put down his spoon and rested for a moment.
"You'd think you'd always like that, wouldn't you?" she said.
"I always shall be fond of anything so perfectly cooked."
"Ah," remarked the old woman thoughtfully.
Udo was beginning to dislike her particular style of conversation. It seemed to carry the merest suggestion of a hint that something unpleasant was going to happen to him. Nothing apparently was going to happen to Coronel. He tried to drag Coronel into the conversation in case the old woman had anything over for him.
"My friend and I," he said, "hope to be in Euralia the day after to-morrow."