"Confounded slops!" growled Ravenslee.
"Doctor's orders!" nodded Mrs. Trapes, clicking her knitting needles.
"Can't I have something to chew at?"
"Sure. How'll a cracker soaked in milk soot?"
"Cracker!" snarled Ravenslee.
"Doctor's orders!"
Ravenslee muttered and took up his book.
"Helen who, did you say?" enquired Mrs. Trapes, glancing up. "Mr. Geoffrey—I mean Ravenslee, I'm surprised at you—swearin' ain't good for a invalid; your temperature'll be rose if you swear."
"But, my dear Mrs. Trapes, I'm hungry, very hungry—darned hungry!"
"Which is a sign as you're improvin' rapid. Beef tea'll be here soon."