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Updated: June 16, 2025
Luke tells me that Colin McKeith is certain to come to the fore in politics I daresay he will be Premier of Leichardt's Land before long. Biddy would like bossing the show and airing her philanthropic crazes. Mrs Gildea shook her head doubtfully. 'Colin wouldn't agree with them. Besides, she would be expatriated. 'Oh no.
In the drawing room, before the men came in, Bridget talked to Joan Gildea. They hadn't yet had, as Biddy reminded her, a regular outpouring. The outpouring it should be stated, was always mostly on Bridget's side. 'When did you start Socialism? Mrs Gildea asked. 'That's something new, isn't it?
Mrs Gildea threw up her hands. 'Biddy, you haven't the faintest notion how dull and uncomfortable how utterly unpoetic how sordid the life of a struggling bushman can be. 'No! You know, Joan, I think that it might be perfectly fascinating if one really cared for the bushman. 'Really cared! Have you EVER really cared for any man? COULD you ever really care? 'That's what I've been asking myself.
Colin McKeith escorted Mrs Gildea to her cab and as they waited in the vestibule, obtained from her a few more particulars of Lady Bridget O'Hara's parentage and conditions. But he said not a word implying that he had discovered her identity with the author of the typed letter.
There was something in the manner of the pair that Mrs Gildea could not understand. Of course, Colin was in love that she knew already. But was Biddy merely playing with the big primitive-souled bushman or was it possible that she, too, could be in love? The next time Biddy came, Joan tackled matters boldly. 'Biddy, I've had my marching orders. Mr Gibbs finds Leichardt's Land a bit stale.
He stopped, fitted another cigarette from the copper case into the holder and, before beginning upon it, said without looking at Mrs Gildea: 'I wouldn't spout like that to anybody but you, Joan. My word!
The big men over here are always taking trips to England, being feted and made much of in Downing Street Imperialist Policy and that sort of thing I can see Biddy at it. Mrs Gildea was silent. She scarcely knew Lady Tallant in this downright mood. 'There's no use blinking matters, said that lady. 'At home, Biddy has been a failure. That was why I persuaded her to come out with us.
He brooded again a few moments, while Mrs Gildea sorted her papers afresh; then he exclaimed: 'It strikes me, she's one of the sort I was talking about just now. 'Well, she WAS born in a castle. 'I guessed it.... You won't tell me her name? 'How could I I ask you? After you'd read that! 'No. All right. You can trust me not to find out. 'Besides, she would never do for you.
For he had talked to her, as he had talked to Joan Gildea, about his readings and his dreamings under the stars in the Bush. 'Eh! you shall teach me about these new writing chaps. I don't understand your up-to-date theories. I've always gone in for plain facts standard reading history great thoughts of great minds old books brought out in people's editions.
You don't mean to say that I've given you her letter? 'Is it really a letter? Do women type letters? It reads to me much more like what the heroine of a novel would be supposed to say than an ordinary everyday girl. If that's a flesh and blood woman I'd like to know her. Mrs Gildea took from him the three typed pages he had in his hand.
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