"Okay," he said. "But look, I know the whole history of your wonderful little village by heart. You've talked of it enough. So just take your look, and save the comments, huh?"
"Such tastes some people have!" Freddy growled, but his eyes were still dancing.
[CHAPTER TWO]
Blitz Scars
His face all alight with the joy and happiness of a little boy seeing his first Christmas tree, Freddy Farmer took in every detail of the Savoy Hotel dining room. Every now and then he took a mouthful of the food the waiter had set in front of him, but mostly he let his eyes roam all over the huge room. He grinned at everyone who happened to look his way, whether he was a general or a civilian office clerk. In short, Freddy Farmer's heart was bubbling over, and he didn't care who knew it.
"Well, have you finally decided?" Dave Dawson presently asked him. "Or are you simply giving your neck muscles a workout?"
"Eh, what's that?" the English youth echoed, turning his head to look at him. "Have I finally decided what?"
Dawson waved a hand at the room at large.
"If you've ever been in this place before," he said. "Because you have, in case you've forgotten, or can't make up your mind. Remember? And I've got a hunch that we were sitting right at this same table, too. Remember?"
Young Farmer frowned, and took a moment out to collect his thoughts. Then suddenly his face lighted up.