“You don’t say so,” said Jasper, sympathetically.
“My sister is well.”
“I forgot your sister’s name.”
“Grace.”
“Of course—Grace. I find it hard to remember names. The fact is, I have been trying to recall your last name, but it’s gone from me.”
“Fowler.”
“To be sure Frank Fowler. How could I be so forgetful.”
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and roast beet, which both he and his new friend attacked with vigor.
“What kind of pudding will you have?” asked the stranger.
“Apple dumpling,” said Frank.