He looked into the small, stuffy closets.

He stood in the middle of her father's room and seemed to meditate deeply, while Jean stood in the doorway and watched him inquiringly.

He came back finally to the kitchen and looked into the cupboard, as though he was taking an inventory of her supply of provisions.
"You might cook me some supper, Jean," he said, when he had put the lamp on the table.

"I see you've got eggs and bacon.

I'm pretty hungry,--for a man that had his dinner six or seven hours ago." Jean cooked supper, and they ate together in the kitchen.