Then he began to study particulars:
grammar and spelling were correct; the penmanship was in the Italian
style, minute, yet flowing, the letters dowered with generous loops and
tails. But surely he had seen this writing before? By Jupiter, yes! This
was the hand of the letter Purdy had shown him on the road to Melbourne.
The little puss! So she not only wrote her own letters, but those of her
friends as well. In that case she was certainly not stupid for she was
much the youngest of the three.
To-day was Thursday. Summoning Long Jim from his seat behind the
counter, Mahony dispatched him to Rotten Gully, with an injunction not
to show himself till he had found a digger of the name of Turnham. And
having watched Jim set out, at a snail's pace and murmuring to himself,
Mahony went into the store, and measured and cut off material for the
new flag, from two different coloured rolls of stuff.
It was ten o'clock that night before Polly's brother presented himself.
Mahony met him at the door and drew him in: the stove crackled, the room
was swept and garnished--he flattered himself that the report on his
habitat would be a favourable one. Ned's appearance gave him a pleasant
shock: it was just as if Polly herself, translated into male terms,
stood before him. No need, now, to cudgel his brains for her image! In
looking at Ned, he looked again at Polly. The wide-awake off, the same
fine, soft, black hair came to light--here, worn rather long and curly
--the same glittering black eyes, ivory-white skin, short, straight
nose; and, as he gazed, an offshoot of Mahony's consciousness wondered
from what quarter this middle-class English family fetched its dark,
un-English strain.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106