can't understand this phase of you. You--a hard-headed Bushman, to be
dreaming romantic dreams and falling all of a sudden over head and ears
in love with--with a figment of your imagination--just because you
happen to have read by mistake some sentimental outpourings of a woman
you know nothing about and who would never forgive me if she knew I'd
let you see her letter.'

'She won't know--You have my word of honour that I'll never give you
away over that letter--not under ANY circumstances, so you can set
your mind at rest on that score, Joan. And as to my falling in love
with--a figment of my own imagination'--he spat the words out
savagely--'we'll see how far your remark is justified when She does
come out and I recognise her--as I am convinced I shall do directly I
set eyes on Her.'

Mrs Gildea burst into rather hysterical laughter, which manifestly
offended Colin McKeith.

'We'll drop the subject, please,' he said stiffly. 'And now, Mrs
Gildea, I'm quite at your service for any information you desire about
the Big Bight country and the probability of a Japanese invasion so
soon as our future Commonwealth comes to crucial loggerheads with the
Eastern Powers on the question of a strictly White Australia.'

After that Colin pointedly abstained from allusion to the Ideal Wife
and to Joan Gildea's Typewriting-Correspondent, as he had called her.
He was very busy himself at this time in connection with a threatened
labour strike that was agitating sheep and cattle owners of the Leura
District. Likewise with a report he had been asked to furnish of a
projected telegraph line for the opening of his 'Big Bight Country'.