"I don't know," said Iris, keenly alert for deductions.
"Biscuits! They thought the bags contained patent fodder until I enlightened them."
It was on the tip of her tongue to pounce on him with the comment: "Then you have been an officer in the army." But she forbore. She had guessed this earlier. Yet the mischievous light in her eyes defied control. He was warned in time and pulled himself up short.
"You read my face like a book," she cried, with a delightful little moue.
"No printed page was ever so—legible."
He was going to say "fascinating," but checked the impulse. He went on with brisk affectation—
"Now, Miss Deane, we have gossiped too long. I am a laggard this morning; but before starting work, I have a few serious remarks to make."
"More digs?" she inquired saucily.
"I repudiate 'digs.' In the first place, you must not make any more experiments in the matter of food. The eggs were a wonderful effort, but, flattered by success, you may poison yourself."
"Secondly?"