“I find your hunger a much better answer of that riddle than to be breathing smoke,” he said.
“Of course you do, because that is the answer that you thought of.”
The waitress began to arrange the dishes upon the table and when all was in order he prepared to serve them both.
“I often start to say most clever things,” he said, as he carved the fish, “but before I can speak you have always say something else.”
She took the plate that he passed her, and picked up her fork at once.
“Then when you are silent for a quarter of an hour or so it would really pay me to keep still and wait; wouldn’t it?” she inquired.
He took a mouthful and deliberated.
“I think so,” he said at last.
A deep stillness fell over the festal board. Von Ibn was mute and his companion felt that, the preceding remarks considered, she would be dumb herself. The entire meal was accordingly eaten in absolute silence, until, when she had finished, she could not refrain from stealing one amused glance in his direction.
“You laugh,” he said, returning the smile in kind.