Loris did not wait for him, but ate her potato and salt. "I'm glad he is able to buy his own dinner," she said, "but I'm afraid he won't come back. I wish he had left a message." But she need not have feared.
In a half-hour the queer man came back, bearing a great basket covered with a cloth. The latter he spread on the ground, and then set out all the things he had said were necessary to make up a dinner. He prepared a place at one end of the cloth for Loris, and one at the other end for himself.
THE NINKUM AND LORIS TAKE DINNER.
"Sit down," said he, seating himself on the grass, "Don't let things get cold."
"I've had my dinner," said Loris. "This is yours."
"Whenever you're ready to begin," said the man, lying back on the grass and looking placidly up to the sky, "I'll begin. But not until then."
