Lannis said in Stormont's ear: "Here she comes with towels. She's pretty, isn't she?"
A young girl in pink gingham advanced toward them across the patch of grass.
Lannis was very polite and presented Stormont. The girl handed them two rough towels, glanced at Stormont again after the introductions, smiled slightly.
"Dinner is ready," she said.
They dried their faces and followed her back to the house.
It was an unpainted building, partly of log. In the dining room half a dozen men waited silently for food. Lannis saluted all, named his comrade, and seated himself.
A delicious odour of johnny-cake pervaded the room. Presently Eve
Strayer appeared with the dinner.
There was dew on her pale forehead — the heat of the kitchen, no doubt. The girl's thick, lustrous hair was brownish gold, and so twisted up that it revealed her ears and a very white neck.
When she brought Stormont his dinner he caught her eyes a moment — experienced a slight shock of pleasure at their intense blue — the gentian-blue of the summer zenith at midday.
Lannis remained affable, even became jocose at moments: "No hootch for dinner, Mike? How's that, now?"