“Don’t they taste sort of funny?” he asked. “How’s yours, Roy?”
“All right,” replied Roy, eating doggedly, his eyes fixed on space as though he were trying to concentrate all efforts on the task. Dick laid his doughnut aside and picked up another.
“Maybe that one isn’t a fair sample,” he said hopefully. “I thought it tasted of—of—I don’t know just what.”
But he appeared to derive small pleasure from his second one and with a sigh of disappointment he laid it down on his knee with a fine simulation of carelessness and took a banana. Then:
“Hello,” he said, “aren’t you eating any doughnuts, Chub?”
“Me? Oh, yes, I had one,” answered Chub. “Fine, aren’t they?”
“Great,” answered Dick warmly.
“Toss me a banana, will you, Dick?” This from Roy, who, having caused the last of his doughnut to disappear, was still swallowing convulsively. “I ate so many sandwiches,” he added, in an apologetic tone, “that I can’t do justice to the doughnuts. Doughnuts are awfully filling things, aren’t they?”
“They certainly are,” agreed Dick and Chub together.
“These will be fine for supper,” continued Dick.