“Then,” said Quiltan, with quick intuition, “the lunch must have been partially prepared?”
“It was.”
He took a deep breath.
“Isn’t it a pity to waste it? I mean, don’t you think I might be invited to share it with you?”
There was something very attractive in the tentative manner in which he made the proposal.
“Do you want to stay?”
“Very much indeed.”
“Do stay, then—please stay. I was rather— I mean, it would make a difference if you stayed. But I haven’t finished cooking yet. You’d have to wait a little.”
“So much the better.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can. There are plenty of books here.”