I thought you would like the upper regions all to yourself.

We can call on each other, you know, now and then.

I say, it's rather a lark, isn't it?
Come and see my preparations for dinner." She went with him into the little bare kitchen, and bestowed lavish praise upon everything she saw.
Jerry's cooking was an accomplishment of which he had some reason to be proud.

He was roasting a pheasant for his visitor's delectation.
"I always do the cooking when we camp out," he explained.

"Just sit down while I finish peeling the potatoes." He pointed to a truckle bedstead in the corner; and Nan seated herself and made a determined effort to banish her depression.
Jerry's preparations for his own comfort were anything but elaborate.
"Oh, I could sleep on bare boards," he lightly said, when she commented upon the hardness of his couch.