In desperation they rushed to the graveyard where they couldn’t smell it. But Una could not keep her eyes from the dining room window, through which the Upper Lowbridge minister could be seen, placidly eating.
“If I could only have just a weeny, teeny piece,” she sighed.
“Now, you stop that,” commanded Jerry. “Of course it’s hard—but that’s the punishment of it. I could eat a graven image this very minute, but am I complaining? Let’s think of something else. We’ve just got to rise above our stomachs.”
At supper time they did not feel the pangs of hunger which they had suffered earlier in the day.