“My!” Mary exclaimed. “It’s hot!”
“Sure!” said Sparky. “This is Africa.”
“The scene shifts so fast I can’t keep up,” Mary said, fanning herself.
“It won’t be bad in here,” said Sparky, motioning her to enter a long, low eating place. “It’s more than half American, patronized mostly by our people. They run a sort of concession and get real food supplies from America.”
The place was all open screened windows. There was a breeze from the sea. The food was good, even to the coffee.
“Just think of taking off in two hours!” Mary exclaimed. “I’d like to make it two weeks.”
“Sure,” Sparky grinned. “Great place for a gal. Hundred American soldiers to pick from.”
“Sparky! Forget it!” She was half inclined to be angry. “What I mean is, I’d like really to see these places we visit, not go to it hop-skip-jump. It—it seems such a waste.”
“That’s right,” Sparky agreed. “After the war we’ll do it all over—take a whole year for it.”
“Will we?” she asked.