Brent had brought out his pipe, and then slipped it back again into his pocket. The gesture was full of significance.
“Smoke.”
“Not here.”
“But I like the smell of it.”
“As a matter of fact, I am at the end of my tobacco.”
“Quel dommage! But this is a tragedy. It is obvious that I must go to Amiens; I may be able to buy English tobacco there.”
He corrected her.
“What a conscience you have! But, mon ami, could you spare me to-morrow? Could you carry all that wood?”
“Easily.”
“And if I stayed away three days?”