Brent took charge of the barrow.
“I’m getting hungry,” he observed.
“Poor Monsieur Paul.”
She ran on ahead, and when Brent reached the café with his precious plunder, he found that she had the table ready and had washed the plates. The two glasses were set out, and in the middle of the table stood a bottle of red wine.
“Thunder, what is this?”
“I brought this with me. We will drink the health of the adventure.”
She poured him out a glass of wine.
“And I have a secret.”
“Then—keep it.”
She laughed.