“Uh, okay, thanks,” John said, petting the cat, who started to purr loudly. “You are a sweet thing.” He scratched Boris’s chin.
Morwenna returned to the table holding a plate with several scones loaded with yellow cream. “You’ll have one, too, Mitch.” He knew it wasn’t a question.
“Any more of that liquorice stuff?” Mitch thought he might need it, even though John looked like he was ready to bolt. He felt conflicted about that.
“Yes, of course. Oh, that reminds me, I need to get some more milk the next time I go into town,” Morwenna said.
Mitch bit into a scone. It had a strange taste, but not unpleasant. John seemed to be having the same reaction.
Morwenna continued to keep the conversation going, even though neither Mitch nor John added much to it. Mitch didn’t know if it was just the power of suggestion, but felt the second glass of liquorice water was helping to quieten his bear’s urgings.