Jake looked at her unhappily. "I've thought the same thing, sometimes, but what are you going to be with people at this stage of development—subtle?"
Isobel dropped it. She held out her glass for more cognac. "I hope there's something decent to eat in this place. Do you realize what I've been putting into my tummy this past week?"
Cliff shuddered.
Isobel patted her abdomen. "At least it keeps my figure in trim."
"Um-m-m," Jake pretended to leer heavily.
Isobel chuckled at him in a return to good humor. "Hyena," she accused.
"Hyena?" Jake said.
"Sure, there aren't any wolves in these parts," she explained. "How long are we going to be here?"
The two men looked at each other. Cliff said, "Well, we'd like to finish out the week. Guy named Homer Crawford has been passing around the word to hold a meeting in Timbuktu the end of this week."
"Crawford?"