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Updated: June 25, 2025
I wish you would come up and live on the station for a time. It would be better for you than life in the club, without a friend to care for you. If ever you feel inclined to stay here for a time, I hope you will at once let me know. With thanks and best wishes, Yours truly, ANNETTE GORDON." The coach from Tarrong railway station to Emu Flat, and then on to Donohoe's Hotel, ran twice a week.
And feeling that if not "on with the new love," he was, at any rate, satisfactorily "off with the old," Blake drove his spanking ponies off to Tarrong, while Ellen Harriott went about her household work with a face as inscrutable and calm as though no stone had ruffled the mill-pond of her existence. For the next couple of weeks, affairs at Kuryong flowed on in usual station style.
The picture he saw was for ever photographed on his mind. He saw the quiet comfort and luxury for after Tarrong it was luxury to him of the station drawing-room; caught the scent of the flowers and the glorious tones of that beautiful voice; and, as he watched the sweet face of the singer, and listened to the words of the song, a sudden fierce determination rose in his mind.
Grant's letter at Kuryong, the train deposited at Tarrong a self-reliant young lady of about twenty, accompanied by nearly a truck-full of luggage solid leather portmanteaux, canvas-covered bags, iron boxes, and so on which produced a great sensation among the rustics. She was handsome enough to be called a beauty, and everything about her spoke of exuberant health and vitality.
Behind him always stalked the grim spectre of detection and arrest; and, even should a lucky windfall help to pay his debts, he could not save the money either to buy a practice in Sydney or to maintain himself while he was building one up. He thought of the pitiful smallness of his chances at Tarrong, and then of Ellen Harriott. What should he do about her?
He had more than once seen Mary Grant and Ellen Harriott in Tarrong, but he was again an outcast, relegated to the society of such as Isaacstein. Well, he would see it out, and would yet make these people glad to crawl to him. Ellen Harriott he never spoke to.
Gavan Blake, attorney and solicitor, sat in his office at Tarrong, opening his morning's letters. The front room, where he sat, was fitted up with a table and a set of pigeon-holes full of dusty papers, a leather couch, a small fire-proof safe, and a book-case containing about equal proportions of law-books and novels. A few maps of Tarrong township and neighbouring stations hung on the walls.
Next morning the Doctor arrived with a trail of Red Mick's relations after him; among them they arranged to take him into Tarrong to be operated on, and Ellen Harriott and Carew drove back to Kuryong feeling as if they had known each other all their lives.
"He's the lawyer from Tarrong." "Yes, I know. Mrs. Connellan called him the 'lier. But I thought you didn't seem to like him. Isn't he nice?" "I suppose so. His father was a gentleman the police magistrate up here." "Then, why don't you like him? Is there anything wrong about him?" Hugh straightened his leaders and steadied the vehicle over a little gully.
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