"Oh," said Lulu, "if I thought—"
He leaned and patted her hand.
"Good girl," he said.
They sat silent, Ninian padding on the cloth with the flat of his plump hands.
Dwight returned. "It's a go all right," he said. He sat down, laughed weakly, rubbed at his face. "You two are tied as tight as the church could tie you."
"Good enough," said Ninian. "Eh, Lulu?"
"It's—it's all right, I guess," Lulu said.
"Well, I'll be dished," said Dwight.
"Sister!" said Ina.
Ninian meditated, his lips set tight and high. It is impossible to trace the processes of this man. Perhaps they were all compact of the devil-may-care attitude engendered in any persistent traveller. Perhaps the incomparable cookery of Lulu played its part.