“How delicious!” she exclaimed. “A breakfast here! But—no, not there!”
“Why not?”
“That is exactly where he was.”
“Aloui! How superstitious you are!”
He moved her table. She sat down near the doorway and poured out coffee for them both.
“You look workmanlike.”
She glanced at his riding-dress and long whip. Smoked glasses hung across his chest by a thin cord.
“I shall have some hard riding, but I’m tough, though you may not think it. I’ve covered many a league of my friend in bygone years.”
He tapped an eggshell smartly, and began to eat with appetite.
“How gravely gay you are!” she said, lifting the steaming coffee to her lips. He smiled.