"Come along," he said, "and keep me company."
Sabina sidled towards the table.
"I'm just after my tea," she said, "and I'd be ashamed to be sitting
down with a gentleman like yourself."
"Nonsense," said Meldon, "I want to talk to you, and I can't do that if
you're standing there in the middle of the floor so as I'd get a crick
in my neck trying to look at you. Sit down at once."
Sabina grinned sheepishly and sat down. Meldon drank off his cup of
tea at a draught, and poured out a second.
"Have you taken the advice I gave you the other day about your
cooking?" he asked.
"Is it making them things with olives?"
"It is."
"Well, I have not; for I wouldn't be fit."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Meldon. "Circumstances have arisen since I
last saw you which render it desirable that you should cook as badly as
possible during the next few days. There's a judge coming here this
evening."
"I heard Mr. Doyle saying that same," said Sabina.
"And he'll be expecting some sort of a dinner to-night."
"There's a chicken ready to go into the oven for him any minute."
"What you have to do," said Meldon, "is to see that he gets as bad a
dinner as possible, and a worse breakfast to-morrow morning.
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