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"If it has turned to stone, still will I eat it," said Edna,
moving with him into the house. "But really, what has become of
Monsieur Farival and the others?"
"Gone hours ago. When they found that you were sleeping they
thought it best not to awake you. Any way, I wouldn't have let
them. What was I here for?"
"I wonder if Leonce will be uneasy!" she speculated, as she
seated herself at table.
"Of course not; he knows you are with me," Robert replied, as
he busied himself among sundry pans and covered dishes which had
been left standing on the hearth.
"Where are Madame Antoine and her son?" asked Edna.
"Gone to Vespers, and to visit some friends, I believe. I am
to take you back in Tonie's boat whenever you are ready to go."
He stirred the smoldering ashes till the broiled fowl began to
sizzle afresh. He served her with no mean repast, dripping the
coffee anew and sharing it with her. Madame Antoine had cooked
little else than the mullets, but while Edna slept Robert had
foraged the island. He was childishly gratified to discover her
appetite, and to see the relish with which she ate the food which
he had procured for her.
"Shall we go right away?" she asked, after draining her glass
and brushing together the crumbs of the crusty loaf.
"The sun isn't as low as it will be in two hours," he
"The sun will be gone in two hours."
"Well, let it go; who cares!"
They waited a good while under the orange trees, till Madame
Antoine came back, panting, waddling, with a thousand apologies to
explain her absence. Tonie did not dare to return. He was shy,
and would not willingly face any woman except his mother.
It was very pleasant to stay there under the orange trees,