David laughed.
“Yes! It’s true!” said Walken. “And if a normal person drinks ten or fifteen of these a day, he has more than enough calories, more calories than he would get in a so-called diet of rabbit food and all that other sticky stuff that I can’t stand. It’s the perfect diet. Charyn was weighing her food once, trying to get down to two thousand calories a day. I told her to have a drink. Perfect diet.”
He held up his glass for all to see, his florid face beaming.
The first several times that Walken explained his physiological problem, David remained politely interested. And then he wasn’t any more. He saw how Nona set her face and thought about something else, looking about the room for some other topic of conversation. He saw how Charyn stiffened, yet resolutely hung on her husb
