He nodded, non-committally.
Black called from inside, “Yore coffee’s b’ilin’, folks.”
He gave them flapjacks and syrup.
“I love flapjacks,” Betty told him.
Their host said nothing, but he was pleased.
Lon came in late and drew up a chair beside Betty. “How’s everything this glad mo’ning?” he asked.
“Fine as the wheat.” She added as an aside, “And the bossy little flapper isn’t half so bossy as she sometimes lets on.”
His grin met her smile. They understood each other very well and were still friends. Betty pushed into the back of her mind a fugitive wish that Justin could know and appreciate her as well as good old Lon did.
After breakfast Betty and Merrick took a short walk.
“Scrumptious day,” she commented. Then, as though it were a continuation of the same thought: “I’m sorry, Justin.”