"... What's your own dream?"
He broke some bread, automatically doing it with his left hand, as
prescribed in the Koran. They both noticed it, and both laughed.
"I'm conditioned," he said.
"Me, too," Isobel admitted. "It's all I can do to use a knife and fork."
He went back to her question, scowling. "My dream? I don't know. Right
now I feel a little depressed about it all. When Elmer Allen spoke about
spending the rest of our lives on this job, I suddenly realized that was
about it. And, you know"--he looked up at her--"I don't particularly
like Africa. I'm an American."