"Good," he mumbled between a mouthful. "Where did you get it?"
"Caught it," said Olga. "The stream's full of 'em. I'll take you
fishing tomorrow." She winked at him so brazenly that he choked on a
bone.
"Heaven forbid," he said.
"How about coming with me to gather fruit?" cried the green-eyed
blonde; "you great big handsome man."
"Or me?" cried another. And the table was in an uproar.
The rawboned woman who had summoned them to dinner, pounded the table
until the cups and plates danced. Jonathan had gathered that she was
called Billy.
"Quiet!" She shrieked in her loud strident voice. "Let him be. He can't
go anywhere for a few days. He's just been through a wreck. He needs
rest." She turned to Jonathan who had shrunk down in his chair. "How
about some roast?" she said.
"No." He pushed back his plate with a sigh. "If I only had a smoke."