Occasionally he looked her way without appearing to see her. The
melons were followed by snipe on toast. A considerable flock flew
down the throat of the poet, in strange contradiction to his views on
the killing of game.
From snipe, Cécile observed that his taste backed around the compass
to fish. Bluefish were at their prime, and Mr. Applebo took
advantage of the fact to quietly devour the best part of the
amidships section of a big one. This accomplished he licked his
lips, looked at Cécile, and blinked.
All of this took considerable time, during which Cécile's eyes were
so constantly seeking Applebo that her companions began to notice it.
Nobody said anything, however, until presently Hermione observed:--
"Don't try to hypnotise him 'til he's finished eating, Cécile. Think
how long the poor fellow must have been on tinned rations."
The others laughed. Bell glanced at the poet.
"Help!" cried he. "The chump is eatin' his dinner backward! He's on
_hors-d'œuvres_ now."
Which was quite true, Mr. Applebo having caught sight of some
anchovies at an adjoining table and conceived a relish for them.
In spite of Hermione's remark, Cécile found herself physically unable
to keep her eye away from him. He fascinated her. Looking about the
room she saw that others shared in this peculiar desire to stare at
Applebo, who for his part was as utterly oblivious of those about as
if he had been in the cabin of his yawl. The man was so strikingly
singular. Cécile observed that he did not even sit at the table as
did other folk. His back was arched like a bow, big shoulders
hunched forward, chin thrust up so that the fringe of his long,
shaggy mane swept below his coat collar, while his legs were bent
under his chair, the toes hooked around the chair legs from inside
out. Though one could certainly find no fault with his appetite, he
picked at his food in a curiously dainty way. This mannerism also
suggested a cat, which animal, while never appearing to eat, can get
away with a prodigious amount of food. Occasionally he looked up and
blinked about the room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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