I--smelt cabbage cooking."
"I knew there would something else come up," gasped Cordelia,
leaning hard on the back of Adrianna's chair.
"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Townsend sharply, but her own face
began to assume the shocked pallour which it was so easy nowadays
for all their faces to assume at the merest suggestion of anything
out of the common.
"I smelt cabbage cooking all the morning up in my room," Adrianna
said faintly, "and here's codfish and potatoes for dinner."
The Townsends all looked at one another. David rose with an
exclamation and rushed out of the room. The others waited
tremblingly. When he came back his face was lowering.
"What did you--" Mrs. Townsend asked hesitatingly.
"There's some smell of cabbage out there," he admitted reluctantly.
Then he looked at her with a challenge. "It comes from the next
house," he said. "Blows over our house."
"Our house is higher."
"I don't care; you can never account for such things."
"Cordelia," said Mrs. Townsend, "you go over to the next house and
you ask if they've got cabbage for dinner."
Cordelia switched out of the room, her mouth set hard.
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