“No, I like to have it in my bedroom.”
“You don't eat bread in the night?” said Lilly.
“I do.”
“What a funny thing to do.”
The cottage was in darkness. The Lillys slept soundly. Jim woke up and chewed bread and slept again. In the morning at dawn he rose and went downstairs. Lilly heard him roaming about—heard the woman come in to clean—heard them talking. So he got up to look after his visitor, though it was not seven o'clock, and the woman was busy.—But before he went down, he heard Jim come upstairs again.
Mrs. Short was busy in the kitchen when Lilly went down.
“The other gentleman have been down, Sir,” said Mrs. Short. “He asked me where the bread and butter were, so I said should I cut him a piece. But he wouldn't let me do it. I gave him a knife and he took it for himself, in the pantry.”
“I say, Bricknell,” said Lilly at breakfast time, “why do you eat so much bread?”
“I've got to feed up. I've been starved during this damned war.”
“But hunks of bread won't feed you up.”