Perhaps Theodore had achieved his aim of looking pitiful enough to invoke some sort of feeling in the other man, or perhaps Tom had simply been in a good mood, either way after eyeing Theodore for a moment or two, Tom told the younger man that even though they had already stopped serving for the day he would go and ask the chef.
And so he interrupted Hannah's cleaning schedule, limping through to the kitchen to ask if she could possibly rustle something up for a regular customer. Not a mean person by nature, a quick peak out the door and to the bar, Hannah realised that there was no way she could refuse someone who looked as miserable and pitiable as Theodore food. And so, albeit slightly begrudgingly she told Tom that she would see what she could throw together, her head already buried in the refrigerator when he left to tell Theodore the good news.
She wasn't able to find much. After all, Sunday's were their busiest day, but eventually Hannah managed to rustle something of a Sunday Hotchpotch. There were a few slices of various roast meets - beef, lamb and chicken, a few roast potatoes and parsnips, some cauliflower and she managed to quickly whisk up some gravy. It was hardly Hannah's best meal but she was sure that it would at least quell the young man's hunger.
Just over ten minutes after Tom had made his way into the kitchen, Hannah made her way out, plate in hand. "Sorry," she apologised, placing the plate in front of Theodore. "It's all we had left. Sunday's are busy days."