Two hours later Cohn appeared. He came into the front room still with the wreath of garlics around his neck. The Spaniards shouted when he came in. Cohn wiped his eyes and grinned.
“I must have been sleeping,” he said.
“Oh, not at all,” Brett said.
“You were only dead,” Bill said.
“Aren’t we going to go and have some supper?” Cohn asked.
“Do you want to eat?”
“Yes. Why not? I’m hungry.”
“Eat those garlics, Robert,” Mike said. “I say. Do eat those garlics.”
Cohn stood there. His sleep had made him quite all right.
“Do let’s go and eat,” Brett said. “I must get a bath.”