Chapter 35
The feast - in terms of food - was somewhat disappointing: a small cold chicken and a large mound of steamed vegetables. The street dwellers had anticipated being able to eat until they could eat no more and even then still eating on to the point of vomiting. Any one of them, in the right feasting mood, could have eaten everything in sight.
The tables and chairs had been taken out of the storeroom and set out in the central arena. Of Allegra there was no sign.
Rolf, who was with them, seemed entirely content. “An adequate sufficiency; isn’t this perfect?” He bit off a small portion of raw carrot, chewing away with obvious enjoyment.
“An ‘adequate sufficiency’?” Tavia was seated next to him. “Is that one of her sayings?” She did not need to name Allegra: in this context ‘her
