And such experiences had put a stamp on him, and distinguished him from
the ordinary ruck of men--these and his undeniable manliness, and good
looks.

He smiled as he glanced amusedly from the littered wind-blown papers on
the table to his hostess' rather troubled face.

'Well you seem to have a pretty fair show here of what you call
"copy,"' he said.

Mrs Gildea met his look with one of frank pleasure.

'That's what I want YOU for.'

'What's the job?' he asked. 'You ought to know that literary "copy" is
not much in my line. Now if it had been yarding the fowls or cleaning
up the garden, I'd feel more at home as a lady's help.'

'Colin, you take me back to Bungroopim--when it happened to be a slack
day for you on the run, and when the married couple had levanted and
I'd got an incompetent black-gin in the kitchen--or when the store
wanted tidying and you and I had a good old spree amongst the rubbish.'

He laughed at a time-honoured joke.

'Stick sugar-mats and weevilly four-bins; and a breeding paddock of
tarantulas and centipedes and white lizards to clear out. I WAS a bush
hobbledehoy in those days, Joan. It's close on twenty years ago.'