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"I don't suppose she told the clergyman a word that wasn't true." Miss Mackenzie declined to discuss the subject, and assured Mrs Tom that she only recommended the banishment of Miss Colza because of her apparent unwillingness to pay. "As for the money," said Mrs Tom, "I expect Mr Rubb to see to that. I suppose he intends to make her Mrs Rubb sooner or later."
You smell the masses of the colza in blossom, you see the yellow carpets of ripe corn spotted here and there by the blue coronets of the cornflower, and rapt by the red blaze of the poppy beds and bathed in the fresh greenery of the landscape, you share in the emotions felt by the happy party in the country cart.
The whole hope of conversation round the table depended on Miss Colza, and she was deeply offended by having been torn away from Mr Rubb. How could she talk seated between the two Tom Mackenzies? From Dr Slumpy Mrs Mackenzie could not get a word. Indeed, with so great a weight on her mind, how could she be expected to make any great effort in that direction?
Away on the left went the green fields of colza, and beetroot, and trefoil, with big forest trees here and there in their midst, and, against the blue low line of the far horizon, red mill-sails, and gray church spires; dreamy plaintive bells far away somewhere were ringing the sad Flemish carillon. He paused and looked at her. "I must bid you good night, Bébée; you are near your home now."
Who would have thought that the cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, kale, and kohlrabi are derivatives of one species, and rape or colza, turnip, and probably rutabaga, of another species? And who that is convinced of this can long undoubtingly hold the original distinctness of turnips from cabbages as an article of faith?
The green country extended on either side of the road, and here and there the colza in flower presented a waving expanse of yellow, from which arose a strong, wholesome, sweet and penetrating odor, which the wind carried to some distance. The cornflowers showed their little blue heads amid the rye, and the women wanted to pick them, but Monsieur Rivet refused to stop.
The conversation was interrupted by Miss Colza, who came and stood opposite to them. "Well, I'm sure," she said; "you two are very confidential." "And why shouldn't we be confidential, Miss Colza?" asked Mr Rubb. "Oh, dear! no reason in life, if you both like it." Miss Mackenzie was not sure that she did like it.
Furneaux recognized the pungent scent of the colza oil used in policemen's lamps. "By gad," he said, "if the average criminal had the nose of the veriest cur dog he'd smell that oil a mile away. Now, where are you? There." He had butted into a constable's solid bulk. "Take me to the rock quick. We must hide behind it, on the lower side.... Is this the place? Right!
Moreover she had on her best and stiffest silk gown, and so armed she could not have been effective in the kitchen. And so came a silence for some minutes, in spite of the efforts of Miss Colza. At last the hostess plucked up her courage to make a little effort. "Tom," she said, "I really think you had better ring again."
According to the facts gathered by the author, which seem authentic, sesame would yield from forty-five to forty-six per cent. of oil, while the poppy and the colza yield only twenty-five to thirty per cent., and the olive simply twenty to twenty-two. Sesame, for this reason, is disliked by the northern manufacturers, who have asked and obtained its prohibition.
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