“Did I say that?” She nodded. “Well, so you are,” said Sir Richard, looking her over critically. “Except for—Did I tie that cravat? Yes, I thought I must have. What in the world have you got there?”
“An apple,” replied Pen, showing it to him. “The fat woman who got out just now gave it to me.”
“You are not going to sit there munching it, are you?” demanded Sir Richard.
“Yes, I am. Why shouldn’t I? Would you like a bit of it?”
“I should not!” said Sir Richard.
“Well, I am excessively hungry. That was the one thing we forgot.”
“What was?”
“Food,” said Pen, digging her teeth into the apple. “We ought to have provided ourselves with a basket of things to eat on the journey. I forgot that the stage doesn’t stop at posting-houses, like the mail-coaches. At least, I didn’t forget exactly, because I never knew it.”
“This must be looked to,” said Sir Richard. “If you are hungry, you must undoubtedly be fed. What are you proposing to do with the core of that apple?”
“Eat it,” said Pen.