“I, too, will have some ham and a couple of poached eggs,” he said.
“You can have ham, sir,” replied the maid, “but there are only eggs enough for one.”
“And I am the one,” said the young man, looking up for the first time.
Mr. Lavender at once conceived an aversion from him; his appearance was unhealthy, and his eyes ravened from behind the spectacles beneath his high forehead.
“I have no wish to deprive you of your eggs, sir,” he said, “though I have had nothing to eat all day.”
“I have had nothing to eat to speak of for six months,” replied the young man, “and in a fortnight's time I shall have nothing to eat again for two years.”
Mr. Lavender, who habitually spoke, the truth, looked at him with a sort of horror. But the young man had again concentrated his attention on his plate. “How deceptive are appearances,” thought Mr. Lavender; “one would say an intellectual, not to say a spiritual type, and yet he eats like a savage, and lies like a trooper!” And the pinchings of his hunger again attacking him, he said rather acidly:
May I ask you, sir, whether you consider it amusing to tell such untruths to a stranger?
The young man, who had finished what was on his plate, paused, and with a faint smile said:
“I spoke figuratively. You, sir, I expect, have never been in prison.”