"You've never had a kiwi?" Ned's smile is warm and without mockery. He remembers just now what Meyer said when they first spoke; if he really is from 1920s, perhaps it isn't so surprising, after all, that he's never had a kiwi. He holds out a slice of the fruit for Meyer to try. It would never cross his mind not to let him have as much as he would like.

"I'm a piemaker. Was. Back home. Had my own shop and everything."