"And he's a burro, not a horse."
"Well what do you know about that? Can you imagine me calling him a horse? Will you pardon me?"
Biddy took a couple of steps toward the man, then stopped uncertainly. "I—are you—?"
"Why don't you come over here and sit down with me?"
"Is—is it all right?"
"I don't know why not."
"I thought maybe you were from the Eastern Bloc." That was foolish of course. Nobody as nice as this man could be from the horrid East.
"No. I'm not from there." The man's clear gray eyes were on Biddy's brace as she approached.
"Then where are you from?"