Amy rapped a knife against the edge of a glass and the noise at the rear ceased abruptly, the door swung open and the man in the enveloping white apron viewed them in surprise.

He was a bald-headed, pink-faced little man with a pair of contemplative blue eyes.
"Morning, boys," he said.

"I didn't hear you come in.

Don't usually get customers till most seven on Sundays.

Want something to eat ?" "Yes, can we have something pretty quick ?" asked Clint.