There were half a dozen gas-lamps
in Sturt Street by this time, the gas being distilled from a
mixture of oil and gum-leaves.
"One wouldn't credit it if one didn't see it with one's own peepers!" he
cried, repeatedly bringing up short before the plate-glass windows of
the shops, the many handsome, verandahed hotels, the granite front of
Christ Church. "And from what I hear, Dick, now companies have jumped
the claims and are deep-sinking in earnest, fortunes'll be made like one
o'clock."
But on getting home again, he sat down in front of Polly and said, with
a businesslike air: "And now tell me all about old Dick! You know, Poll,
he's such an odd fish; if he himself doesn't offer to uncork, somehow
one can't just pump him. And I want to know everything that concerns him
--from A to Z."
Polly could not hold out against this affectionate curiosity.
Entrenching her needle in its stuff, she put her work away and complied.
And soon to her own satisfaction. For the first time in her married life
she was led to discuss her husband's ways and actions with another; and,
to her amazement, she found that it was easier to talk to Purdy about
Richard than to Richard himself. Purdy and she saw things in the same
light; no rigmarole of explanation was necessary. Now with Richard, it
was not so. In conversation with him, one constantly felt that he was
not speaking out, or, to put it more plainly, that he was going on
meanwhile with his own, very different thoughts.
Pages:
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332