"Glad to hear it, old man! It's pretty well all you'll get to-day. Sarah, are you trying to starve your youthful charges?"
"It is my fault; I said it would do," Nell said clearly.
"How awfully nice of you," Ted cut in; "you must have known I was coming along."
"Denis, I don't want any chicken—only rice, please."
"You've got to have it, anyway."
"I don't want it!"
"Leave it, then."
She knew that tone. She frowned and bit her lip, but rather than make more fuss, she gave in.
"No one's cut any bread," observed Molly.
Ted seized the loaf. Nell glanced at him, saw his face was red and puzzled, looked at the loaf, which wore a somewhat grimy and cindery appearance, leant forward, and gave it a squeeze. Then suddenly she began to laugh and laugh: "Oh—it's an experiment!" she gasped. "I'm—afraid—it isn't—a success!"