“But I’ve borrowed Professor Wilder’s Primus stove,” said Miss Rutherford, “and I’ve got two cups and an enamelled mug to drink it out of.”
“We could have managed with the peach tin,” said Priscilla, “after we’d finished the peaches. I hate luxury. But, of course, it’s awfully good of you to think of the cups.”
“I hesitated about suggesting that we should take turns at the tin,” said Miss Rutherford. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, but I wasn’t quite sure——”
She glanced at Frank.
“Oh, he’d have been all right,” said Priscilla. “I’m training him in.”
“I’ve also got a pound and a half of peppermint creams,” said Miss Rutherford.
“My favourite sweet,” said Priscilla. “You got them at Brannigan’s, I hope. He keeps a particularly fine kind, very strong. You have a delicious chilly feeling on your tongue when you draw in your breath after eating them. But Brannigan’s is the only place where you get them really good.”
“I forget the name of the shop, but I think it must have been Brannigan’s. The man advised me to buy them the moment he heard you were to be of the party. He evidently knew your tastes. Then—I’m almost ashamed to confess it after what you said about luxury; but after all you needn’t eat it unless you like——
“What is it?” said Priscilla. “Not milk chocolate, surely.”
“No. A loaf of bread.”