"Nobody cares what becomes of me after they're fed," she thought, and derived an obscure satisfaction from her phrasing, and thought it again.
Ninian Deacon came into the kitchen.
Her first impression was that he had come to see whether the dog had been fed.
"I fed him," she said, and wished that she had been busy when Ninian entered.
"Who, me?" he asked. "You did that all right. Say, why in time don't you come in the other room?"
"Oh, I don't know."
"Well, neither do I. I've kept thinking, 'Why don't she come along.' Then I remembered the dishes." He glanced about. "I come to help wipe dishes."
"Oh!" she laughed so delicately, so delightfully, one wondered where she got it. "They're washed----" she caught herself at "long ago."
"Well then, what are you doing here?"
"Resting."