Cuthbert stared. One mouthful was gone and Mr. Meredith was cheerfully gulping another.
"What a digestion the man has," he thought, and next was plunged politely in reminiscent conversation regarding his College days.
Mabel sat crunching quite happily at the despised walnut cake.
Lance approached her timidly.
"For Heaven's sake," he said, "give me a large cup of coffee for the ostrich. The man will die if he isn't helped."
"Who on earth do you mean, Lance?" asked Mabel innocently.
"Meredith. Don't you see he has eaten the cake."
Mabel looked conscience-stricken. Her own slice had not dwindled much.
"It is rather chucky-stoney, isn't it?" she asked anxiously.
"It's terrific," said Lance sagely.