but her face was very cold -- nearly colourless. She was one of those
selfishly sensual women -- thin lips, and hard, almost vacant grey eyes;
no thought of anything but her own pleasures, none for the man's.
Some shearers would roughly call her "a squatter's girl".
But she "drew"; she was handsome where women are scarce -- very handsome,
thought a tall, melancholy-looking jackeroo, whose evil spirit
had drawn him to Stiffner's and the last shilling out of his pocket.

Over the great grey plain, about a fortnight before, had come "Old Danny",
a station hand, for his semi-annual spree, and one "Yankee Jack" and his mate,
shearers with horses, travelling for grass; and, about a week later,
the Sydney jackeroo. There was also a sprinkling of assorted swagmen,
who came in through the scrub and went out across the plain,
or came in over the plain and went away through the scrub,
according to which way their noses led them for the time being.

There was also, for one day, a tall, freckled native
(son of a neighbouring "cocky"), without a thought beyond the narrow horizon
within which he lived. He had a very big opinion of himself
in a very small mind. He swaggered into the breakfast-room
and round the table to his place with an expression of ignorant contempt
on his phiz, his snub nose in the air and his under lip out.
But during the meal he condescended to ask the landlord
if he'd noticed that there horse that chap was ridin' yesterday;
and Stiffner having intimated that he had, the native entertained the company
with his opinion of that horse, and of a certain "youngster"
he was breaking in at home, and divers other horses,
mostly his or his father's, and of a certain cattle slut, &c. . . .
He spoke at the landlord, but to the company, most of the time.
After breakfast he swaggered round some more, but condescended