At
least, this was what he thought when not abandoning himself to the
gratification of a convalescent appetite; to the presence of two pretty
women, the sympathy of a genial friend, the healthy intoxication of the
white sunlight that glanced upon the pine walls, the views that mirrored
themselves in the open windows, and the pure atmosphere in which The
Lookout seemed to swim. Wandering breezes of balm and spice lightly
stirred the flowers on the table, and seemed to fan his hair and
forehead with softly healing breath. Looking up in an interval of
silence, he caught Bradley's gray eyes fixed upon him with a subdued
light of amusement and affection, as of an elder brother regarding a
schoolboy's boisterous appetite at some feast. Mainwaring laid down
his knife and fork with a laughing color, touched equally by Bradley's
fraternal kindliness and the consciousness of his gastronomical powers.
"Hang it, Bradley; look here! I know my appetite's disgraceful, but what
can a fellow do? In such air, with such viands and such company! It's
like the bees getting drunk on Hybla and Hymettus, you know. I'm not
responsible!"
"It's the first square meal I believe you've really eaten in six
months," said Bradley, gravely.
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