“Ah! Food for angels, or made by them? Which?�
“Neither. It is of the earth, earthy. Even you can safely eat it.�
But Donald was watching the graceful contour of the dimpled elbow beneath the uprolled sleeve, and did not for a moment respond to her retort.
“Yes—ah—what is it?� he asked, recalling himself.
Tibby’s pink chin was elevated. “Shakespeare never repeats,� she said sententiously.
“But you are not Shakespeare.�
“Well, I’m nearly the same thing. I’m bakin’,� she said with a giggle.
“O, you’re too bad! Such a pun as that is atrocious! Bacon? Oh!� And Donald sank back in his chair and made a feint of fanning himself. “I’m struck all in a heap.�
“Well, when young men are so impolite one feels like throwing puns, or any handy weapon, at their heads. I may take the rolling pin next,� said Tibby.
“Really, Miss Tibby, I beg your pardon for my inattention, but the fact is, I was following a train of thought which was—�