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." 'Teena found it and I repotted it. See how much happier it
is? It's grown more than ten centimeters."
I looked at the little tree. And looked again. "How many days have I been
in this hospital?"
Minerva suddenly had no expression at all. The Teena voice said, "You
didn't say how big a brontosaurus you wanted for breakfast. Better make it a
little one, huh? The older ones are terribly tough. So everybody says."
Ten centimeters- Hazel had said she would see me "in the morning." Which
morning, dear one? Two weeks ago? Or longer? "The older ones aren't tough if
they are hung properly. But I don't want to wait while the meat ages. Would
there be any such delay with waffles?"
"Oh, no," agreed Teena's voice. "Waffles aren't common here but Maureen
knows all about them. She was brought up, she says, only a few kilometers from
where you were reared, and at almost the same time, give or take a century or
so. So she knows the sort of cooking you are used to. She explained to me all
about waffle irons and I experimented until I made one just the way she wanted
it. How many waffles can you eat, fatty?"
"Five hundred and seven."
There was a short silence, then Teena said, "Minerva?"
"I don't know."
"But," I went on, "I'm on a diet, so let it go with three."
"I'm not sure I want you as my bridegroom."
"In any case you haven't consulted Hazel
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