Emma turned out to be a surprise. She was about seventeen and had the bluest eyes Pete had ever seen, and the blondest hair. She was lithe and thin and very pretty, and it certainly seemed that life on the moon agreed with her.
“How do you do, Mr. Hodges?”
“Miss Heidler,” Pete nodded curtly. “Folks, I appreciate all this, but honest, I’m in an awful hurry —”
Mrs. Heidler could be just as firm as her husband. She convoyed Pete to a table, chuckled when he plunked down hard on the wooden chair, then said:
“You will eat and that is all there is to it. The stew is finished now, anyway.”
“And I,” Dr. Heidler beamed, “I guarantee you a treat. It is a rare dish, this Hungarian stew, called goulash.”
Pete could smell the delicious aroma now, and, in spite of himself, he realized he was hungr
