Bernamer came about the bed and dropped a hand on Mark’s chest. He said nothing, but grinned and sat down. His seemly clothes and cropped head made him amazingly like Gurdy. Mark beamed at both of them. “Had your breakfast?”
“Hell, yes,” said Bernamer, “Had two. Got some coffee in Philadelphia and then Lady Ilden made us eat somethin’ when we got here.”
Mark swung out of bed and ordered Gurdy, “Tell ’em to bring me up some coffee in the library, sonny. Oh, Margot ain’t got here?”
“Yes, she’s here,” said Gurdy and quickly left the room.
The sun filled his showerbath. Mark cheered further, babbled to his brother-in-law while he shaved and wondered what Bernamer had talked about to Olive at breakfast.
“Oh, we just talked,” said the farmer, curtly, “Nice kind of woman.”
He leaned in the door of the bathroom and rolled a cigarette in his big, shapely hands. Now that he had five hired men his hands were softer and not so thick. A fine, quiet man, full of sense.
“Awful good of you to come up, Eddie. I ain’t makin’ a fool of myself. The old man was eighty. It’s a wonder he lasted as long.”
“Better get some coffee in you, bud. You look run down.”
“Been workin’ like a horse, Eddie.”