"Truly?" he said.
"I think he will anyway," said Gay, and she made sounds to Uncas which reassured him and brought him presently on a tearing run for her lap. Here, when he had been fed, he yawned, stretched himself, and fell asleep.
"Mowgli's sister!" said Pritchard reverently. "Child, are there the scars of wolves' teeth on your wrists and ankles?"
"No, octogenarian," said Gay; "there aren't any marks of any kind. What time is it?"
"It is half-past two."
"Then you shall smoke a cigarette, while I wash dishes."
She slid the complaining Uncas from her lap to the ground.
"Unfortunately," said Pritchard, "I didn't bring a cigarette."
"And you've been dying for a smoke all this time? Why don't you ask the guide for what you want?"
"Have you such a thing?"