“Yes,” said I; “and a pleasant sight too when one is hungry.”
“By Jove, yes,” said he; “caravaning makes one appreciate things, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said I, “whenever there are any.”
In silence he continued to pursue with his fork.
“They are very pink,” said I, after some minutes.
“Yes,” said he.
“Do you think so much—such unceasing—exercise is good for them?”
“Well, but I must get them brown all round.”
“They are, however, still altogether pink.”
“Patience, my dear Baron. You’ll soon see.”