“What makes it smell so funny?” said Dolly, after a moment’s inspection. She was incapable of understanding plans or maps.
“I suppose the paper.”
“And which way up is it?”
“Just the ordinary way up. That’s the sky-line, and the part that smells strongest is the sky.”
“Well, ask me another. Margaret—oh—what was I going to say? How’s Helen?”
“Quite well.”
“Is she never coming back to England? Every one thinks it’s awfully odd she doesn’t.”
“So it is,” said Margaret, trying to conceal her vexation. She was getting rather sore on this point. “Helen is odd, awfully. She has now been away eight months.”
“But hasn’t she any address?”
“A poste restante somewhere in Bavaria is her address. Do write her a line. I will look it up for you.”