"Not really," Diltz said, starting at his meal. I kept my thoughts to myself as we ate. Diltz ate the way he lived; in ordered measured amounts. And if Samas' eating habits reflected on how he lived, I wanted to know him even more. He ate like a man who lusted for food. He eyed the next piece of food on the plate while he chewed the one in his mouth, tackling the new one as soon as he swallowed. He worked as if he thought the meal might go bad before his very eyes. The sounds of pleasure he made with each new taste led me to think he was in the throes of passion instead of the main course of dinner.

Diltz ate seemingly oblivious to the show, but I was hypnotized by the display of emotions conveyed in Samas' facial expressions. He knifed off a thick slice of lamb and popped it into his mouth.

"Mmmm," he moaned. "Esmerelda should change her name to Rosemary this chop is seasoned so well. Please pass on my compliments," he said with his mouth full.

"I'll pass it on. Try the mussels, she prepared those as well," Diltz said.

Samas grunted in acknowledgment as he took another bite. His pace slowed and his enthusiasm waned after a full forty-five minutes, just as empty spots began to appear in the two plates. "Are they bringing the dessert cart by?" he asked. Diltz nodded.

I couldn't resist it any longer. "You're going to eat more?"

"Yes," he said still chewing. "I would eat it all if I could Evan. And why not?" he bellowed, grabbing a handful of small mussels. "What is the purpose of life if you don't enjoy yourself and simple pleasures such as Esmerelda's cooking are often the best." He pried open two shells and popped the contents into his open mouth. "Mmmm. What is that spice, Dill?"

Diltz nodded.

"It's fantastic. Here have some and you'll see what I mean by pleasure." He dropped a half dozen shells onto my plate. I pried them open as a woman came in with a stainless steel cart covered with colorful cakes, custards, and tarts.

Samas looked over the deserts like a jeweler inspecting precious stones. "I'll have the lime tart and the pavlova, and could you bring in a decanter of brandy, the '51 if there's any left," he said. Diltz and I both declined dessert. She reappeared with a crystal decanter and three glasses.

"I've been thinking," Samas said as he filled each of our glasses in turn. "I would like to ask the panel for a recess, two or three days. I thought we could go to my home in Morocco, spend some time in the sun. It would give us the opportunity to get to know each other, so we could work together better. Besides, it seems you could use a few days’ worth of diversion."

"Can we do that?" I asked.