But there's
another consideration altogether that I'd like to bring under your
notice. I've had some talk with Sabina during the last few days, and
I've come to the conclusion that she's a young woman with a talent for
cooking of a very rare and high kind. There's nothing that girl
couldn't do if she got a little encouragement. Give her the smallest
hint and she acts on it at once."
"I wish to God then," said Doyle, "that you'd held off from giving her
hints, as you call it. Only for you I don't believe she'd ever have
thought--"
"I'm not speaking now of the paraffin oil business. You mustn't allow
that to become an obsession with you, Doyle. There are other things in
the world besides that judge's meals. As it happens, I was giving
Sabina a short lecture on the art of cookery some days before I heard
of the judge's arrival. I was speaking to her about the advisability
of knocking together an occasional omelette for you, or a nice little
savoury made of olives and hard-boiled eggs. I found her unusually
receptive, and quite prepared to follow up the ideas I put before her.
There was just one thing stood in her way--"
"Who'd eat the like of them things?" said Doyle.
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