I carried in my wet things and they were soon steaming by the fire with hers. The woman hustled about and put some black bread and vile cheese on the table; while the man stood fidgetting about sheepishly by the door.
“It’s all I’ve got to eat; but I can make you some coffee.”
“The very thing,” said Volna.
“Fetch the coffee, Ivan,” said the woman. The man hesitated, glanced at her, and then shuffled away.
“Come on, Bob, I’m famished,” cried Volna, sitting down and cutting some bread.
“Ivan says your horse is done up,” said the woman. “You must be a long way from home.”
“Further than you think,” replied Volna. “We’re English.”
“You didn’t ride from England?” she asked stupidly.
“You dear soul, there’s the sea between England and here.”
“But you’re strangers?”