"We've still
got the Pater's money--"
"Yes, that will come for weeks yet. I've thought all about that. If I
were heroic I suppose I'd not touch it. But I don't see how we can avoid
it."
"But it isn't enough to get out of Sydney with," he said petulantly.
"Yes it is. I'm going to find work for us," she informed him.
"What sort of work?"
"Anything--farm work is all I know. But probably I could cook. Mrs. King
has told me a good many things to make."
"But, Marcella--" began Louis, almost tearfully.
She turned to him quickly.
"Louis, you're to leave this to me. On the _Oriana_ you said you would.
I'm your doctor and I'm prescribing treatment. I may be wrong, but give
me a trial, anyway. I don't want to boss you. I want you to be free. But
you can't till you've learnt how to walk yourself."
And she would say no more, but going to several agencies in Pitt Street
put down their names. She told them she came from a farm in Scotland,
and they seemed very pleased to see her. But when she added that she was
married to an Englishman who had a public-school education they became
sceptical.
"What can he do?" they asked. She hesitated.
"Rouseabout?" asked the clerk. When they explained that this meant being
Jack-of-all-trades on an up-country station, Marcella, in a spirit of
sheer mischief, said that would suit Louis well.
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