" She spoke louder. "I
guess we'd better be going now. I know you're hungry, and so am I.
Come on. We can walk home, and then I'll make the tea."
For a second Van Landing hesitated, then he followed the odd-looking
couple out into the street, but as they started to turn the corner he
stopped.
"I say"--he cleared his throat to hide its embarrassed
hesitation--"don't you want to do me a favor? Where I live I don't
buy the things I eat, and I've often thought I'd like to. If you are
going to make the tea and toast, why can't I get the--the chicken,
say, and some salad and things? That's a good-looking window over
there with cooked stuff in it. We'll have a party and each put in
something."
"Chicken?" Into his face the child gazed with pitying comprehension of
his ignorance, and in her voice was shrill amusement. "_Chicken!_ Did
you ever price one? I have, when I'm having kings and queens taking
dinner with me in my mind. People don't have chicken 'cept at
Christmas, and sometimes Sundays if there hasn't been anybody out of
work for a long time. Come on. I've got a box of sardines.
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