So she said she would ride half the day with each of us." "But, nom-de-dieu, what is the good of that?
There is no sense in it." "It is her wish." He flogged a gorse bush angrily with a switch he had cut for Black Boy's benefit, and looked more than half inclined to fling himself back on to his horse and ride away, which would have been quite to my taste.

Black Boy watched him viciously, with white gleams in his eyes, and winced at sound of the switch.
But before Torode had made up his mind, Jeanne Falla's sharp voice called from the gate, "Now then, you two, the coffee's getting cold.

Come in and eat while you have the chance." Coffee never tastes so good as just after morning watch, and I turned in at once, while young Torode proceeded to make sure that Black Boy should not make off while he was inside.
Aunt Jeanne's brown old face creased up into something like a very large wink as we went up the path, and she said softly, "First pig in trough gets first bite.

You'll enjoy a cup of coffee at all events, mon gars.

Seems to me there are two Black Boys out there, n'es c' pas ?" And if such coffee as Jeanne Falla made, with milk warm from the cow, could have been curdled by sour looks, young Torode had surely not found his cup to his liking.
His ill-humour was not simply ill-concealed, it was barely kept within bounds, and was, to say the least of it, but poor return for Aunt Jeanne's double hospitality.