"Rather! I'm w-wondering what m-makes you like that!--you know what I
mean, without co-ordination. Babies and drunkards and that sort of thing
usually are."

"Well, I'm neither of those. But I'll tell you why I think it is. It's
because I've lived in the open air, where there was nothing to knock
over except trees and stones; or else I've lived in an enormous house
where everything was so big you couldn't knock it over if you tried. I'm
not used to being among things and people."

"Been in prison?" he said, smiling for the first time.

She entered on a vivid description of Lashnagar. He seemed to think it
was a fairy tale, though he listened eagerly enough, and once she saw
him actually look directly at her face for an instant.

"Are you going to Sydney?" he asked at length.

"I'm booked through to Sydney, but I'm going to live with an uncle right
in the backblocks somewhere, and he may meet me at Melbourne. I've never
seen him yet. Where are you going?"

"Sydney."

"To live there?"

"No, die probably," he said, and his face that had been animated
suddenly became morose and gloomy, and his hand shook as he lighted
a cigarette. Her eyes opened wider.