"We
ain't had our breakfast, either."
Celestina wheeled about with astonishment. Willie's hospitality must
have burst all bounds if it had lured him, who never deviated from the
truth, into uttering a falsehood monstrous as this. One glance,
however, at his placid face, his unflinching eye, convinced her that
swept away by the interest of the moment the little old man had lost
all memory of whether he had breakfasted or not.
She did not enlighten him.
"Mebbe it ain't honest to let him go on thinkin' he's had nothin' to
eat," she whispered to herself, "but if all them muffins, an' oatmeal,
an' coffee don't do nothin' toward remindin' him he's et once, I ain't
goin' to do it. This second meal will make up fur the breakfast he
missed yesterday. I ain't deceivin' him; I'm simply squarin' things
up."
CHAPTER IV
THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER ENTERS
Before the morning had passed Bob Morton was as much at home in the
little cottage that faced the sea as if he had lived there all his
days. His property was spread out in the old mahogany bureau upstairs;
his hat dangled from a peg in the hall; and he had exchanged his "city
clothes" for the less conventional outing shirt and suit of blue serge,
both of which transformed him into a figure amazingly slender and
boyish.
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