Eliza's tone was one of shocked amazement. "Not REALLY? Oh, well, some people would thrive on it, I dare say, but he had indigestion."
"Me too! That's why I chew it."
The girl eyed him during an uncomfortable pause. Finally she inquired:
"Do you ever feel a queer, gnawing feeling, like hunger, if you go without your breakfast?"
"Unh-hunh! Don't you?"
"I wouldn't alarm you for the world, Uncle Tom—"
"I ain't your uncle!"
"You might chew the stuff for years and not feel any bad effects, but if you wake up some morning feeling tired and listless—"
"I've done that, too." Slater's gloomy eyes were fixed upon her with a look of vague apprehension. "Is it a symptom?"
"Certainly! Pepsin-poisoning, it's called. This fellow I told you about was a charming man, and since we had all tried so hard to save him, we felt terribly at the end."