Here, however, Purdy brought his eyes back from the garden, and she
abruptly dropped hers to her needlework.
The scissors were shut with a snap, and thrown, rather than laid, to the
other implements in the workbox. "One 'ud think you were paid to finish
that wretched sewing in a fixed time, Polly," said Purdy cantankerously.
"Haven't you got a word to say?"
"It's for the Dorcas Society. They're having a sale of work."
"Oh, damn Dorcases! You're always slaving for somebody. You'll ruin your
eyes. I wonder Dick allows it. I shouldn't--I know that."
The peal of laughter that greeted these words came equally from husband
and wife. Then: "What the dickens does it matter to you, sir, how much
sewing my wife chooses to do?" cried Mahony, and, still laughing,
stepped out of the window.
"Hello!--you there?" said Purdy and rose to his feet. "What a beastly
fright to give one!" He looked red and sulky.
"I scored that time, my boy!" and linking his arm in Mary's, Mahony
confronted his friend. "Afraid I'm neglecting my duties, are you?
Letting this young woman spoil her eyes?--Turn 'em on him, my love, in
all their splendour, that he may judge for himself."
"Nonsense, Richard," said Mary softly, but with an affectionate squeeze
of his arm.
"Well, ta-ta, I'm off!" said Purdy. And as Mahony still continued to
quiz him, he added in a downright surly tone: "Just the same old Dick as
ever! Blinder than any bat to all that doesn't concern yourself! I'll
eat my hat if it's ever entered your noddle that Polly's quite the
prettiest woman on Ballarat.
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