They partook of the good home-made bread, and of the meat, Devinne regarding them with kindly eyes.
“It’s a good thing the steamer is early, or we might have been as badly off as you. We have but a week’s supply, but the new lot will be down in a day or two.... Where have you come from?”
“Endicott,” said Jim. “We lost our dogs and got delayed some. Gee, but food is a wonderful thing!”
Natalie came in and discreetly removed the remainder of the loaf and the meat.
“No more, pleece,” she said. “You vill haf no room for zat supper. I haf him on the stove now.”
She laughed merrily, not a little pleased at this unexpected invasion. For months she had seen no one but wandering Indians and grizzled miners. It was a delight to hold conversation with a pretty woman—not to mention a strapping son of Hercules, like unto nothing she had ever seen before. 274
Jim found Devinne a charming and interesting host. Over a pipe they discussed New York and London, these being Devinne’s idea of paradise, a point of view which Jim scarcely shared. By the time supper was ready they all felt like old friends. Natalie, much to Angela’s embarrassment, displayed particular interest in Jim.
“But your brother—he ees magnifique! Such eyes—such limbs! Mon Dieu, but I haf nevaire seen one lak him. And you go all zat way wit’ him?—you are verra brave—and so beautiful.”
Angela would have liked to return the compliment—for the French woman was beautiful enough, and fascinating to her finger-tips—but she felt annoyed that Jim should have placed her in this position. Why should he attempt to pass her off as his sister? It was unpardonable! And here was this French woman regarding him with eyes of obvious admiration. Angela felt a queer little stab in the region of her heart.
“I can trade you some food the day after to-morrow, Conlan,” said Devinne.