He was satisfied, so much so that immediately afterward he barely managed to stagger off to bed.
That night the ship from Orede came in, packed with frozen bloody carcasses of cattle. Calhoun knew nothing of it. But next morning Maril came back. There were shadows under her eyes and her expression was of someone who has lost everything that had meaning in her life.
"I'm all right," she insisted, when Calhoun commented. "I've been visiting my family. I've seen—Korvan. I'm quite all right."
"You haven't eaten any better than I have," Calhoun observed.
"I—couldn't!" admitted Maril. "My sisters—my little sisters—so thin.... There's rationing for everybody and it's all efficiently arranged. They even had rations for me. But I couldn't eat! I—gave most of my food to my sisters and they—squabbled over it!"
Calhoun said nothing. There was nothing to say. Then she said in a no less desolate tone;
"Korvan said I was foolish to come back."
"He could be right," said Calhoun.
"But I had to!" protested Maril. "Because I—I've been eating all I wanted to, on Weald and in the ship, and I'm ashamed because they're half-starved and I'm not. And when you see what hunger does to them ... It's terrible to be half-starved and not able to think of anything but food!"
"I hope," said Calhoun, "to do something about that. If I can get hold of an astrogator or two."