noon
Two sandwiches , an apple , and a glass of water may save a man from starvation , but they do not go far towards satisfying the reviving appetite of a convalescent . Walking with brisk step down the road , Callandar began to imagine the kind of meal he would order -- a clear soup , broiled steak , crisp potatoes -- a few little simple things like that ! He fingered his pocketbook lovingly , glad that , for the first time in some months , he actually wanted something that money could buy . Now that noon was past , the intense heat of the morning was tempered by a breeze . It was still hot and his footsteps raised little cyclones of dust which flew along the road before him , but the oppression in the air was gone , and walking had ceased to be a weariness . The mile which separated him from Coombe appeared no longer endless , yet so insistent were the demands of his inner man that when a town-going farmer hailed him with the usual offer of a `` lift , '' he accepted the invitation with alacrity . `` Better , '' he murmured to himself , `` the delights of rustic conversation with a good meal at the end thereof than lordly solitude and emptiness withal . ''