The soup was cold and greasy and tasted of an
unscoured pot. The mutton sandwich, as Sadie remarked, would have been
better suited to the antique department; and the coffee, though hot,
might as easily have been tea or cocoa, or a blend of all three.
"What a shame to feed their people like this!" exclaimed Win, who had
thought she was hungry, but now found herself mistaken. And again the
eyes of Peter Rolls, Jr., seemed to be looking straight into hers. No
wonder he was what his sister hinted at if he knew all about this and
had not the heart to care! And if he didn't trouble to know, it was
just as bad.
"They don't want to feed us, you see," said Sadie, slowly finishing a
baked apple which looked like a head-hunter's withered trophy. "On the
low prices they're obliged to charge they can't make a cent offen us.
Besides if all the guyls et in the house they'd have to give up more
of their valuable room. They'd rather we'd go out, so long as we're
back in time. Only the poorest ones, who have to look twice at every
cent, feed in the restaurant as a reg'lar thing; or the weak ones,
who're so dead tired they can't bear to take a nextra step.
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