"I hope the supper is real, anyhow," he said.
He spoke as if making a conscious effort to break the spell. It made her glance up as he seated her; but all she thought of then was that she would like to smooth back his hair. The spell was not broken.
Chops and cauliflower and a salad were served to them, with patties of fresh butter and crusted white bread. She was glad to see him eat heartily. She prepared his salad with a dash of salt and pepper, a little vinegar and oil. That much, at least, she was at liberty to do for him. It gave her a new pleasure.
"Monte," she asked, "do you suppose it's always as nice as this here?"
"If it were, would you like to stay?" he asked.
She thought a moment over that. Would it be possible just to drift on day after day, with Monte always a fairy prince beside her? She glanced up and met his eyes.
"I—I guess it's best to follow our schedule," she decided, with a little gasp.