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Updated: June 16, 2025
'Stick sugar-mats and weevilly four-bins; and a breeding paddock of tarantulas and centipedes and white lizards to clear out. I WAS a bush hobbledehoy in those days, Joan. It's close on twenty years ago. Joan Gildea gave a little shudder. 'Don't remind me how old I am. There's the difference between a man and a woman. My life's behind me: yours in front of you. 'I don't know about that, Joan.
'I don't want to grow not to care though, of course, now I should prefer to care about someone or something that isn't Willoughby Maule, I feel inside me that my salvation lies in caring in caring intensely.... But you wouldn't understand, Joan. You weren't built that way. 'No, assented Mrs Gildea doubtfully.
After these unsuccessful attempts, Joan made opportunity, before leaving, for a private word on the subject with Lady Tallant. But Rosamond Tallant treated the matter, at first, very lightly. 'Dear Mrs Gildea, you needn't worry, it's only Biddy's way. She must have some excitement to keep her going. If it isn't one thing, it's another.
I knew she wanted a fresh start badly. It was quite true. Mrs Gildea remembered Bridget's confidences to herself. She could not help feeling that Lady Tallant was right in the main, and put forward no more objections.
She tilted her face forward for him to light the other cigarette at hers, and he did so, always with that suggestion of reverence which sat so oddly upon him. Mrs Gildea watching the pair was immensely struck by it. He smoked in silence for a few moments, his eyes still apparently fascinated by the glittering initials on the case which now Bridget attached to her chatelaine chain.
He would intersperse his political dissertation with racy bits of description of life in the Bush, and would give the points of view of pearl fishers, miners, loafers, officials in out-of-the-way townships, Labour reformers, sheep and cattle owners all of which vastly amused Lady Bridget, and was valuable 'copy, typed unscrupulously by Mrs Gildea.
'Anyway, I know that it begins with a "B." And I know that she's got one relation called Molly, and another called Chris, and a friend whose name is Rosamond likewise that Rosamond is the wife of Luke.... By Jove! He stopped short and looked at Mrs Gildea with sharp enlightenment.
A naughty little gust herald of the sub-tropical afternoon breeze that comes up the Leichardt River from the sea, blew about the typed sheets on the table, and, among them, those of Lady Bridget's letter, as Mrs Gildea laid them down.
Joan, however, kept perverse silence. In truth, she felt considerably nervous over the prospect. What was going to happen when Colin McKeith set eyes on Bridget? Joan Gildea was a simple woman though circumstances had made her a shrewd one, and she had all the elementary feminine instincts.
Mr McKeith lowered his arm, stooping over her, and Mrs Gildea heard him say in a voice that sounded different somehow from his ordinary deep drawl: 'I wonder why I was chosen for this honour?
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