“You like her, Christopher?” I asked.
He was serious at all times, and much of his gravity was sadness. He nodded impressively.
“Yes, sir.”
“She has fed you well.”
“Yes, sir.” He spread his immense hands over his stomach.
“I’ll ask her to bring you some more,” I said.
His face showed alarm. “Don’t, sir! I’d shorely bust.”
“But you wouldn’t have to eat more, even if she brought it.”
“Yes, I would, sir.”
“Why?”