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Bruce, Mary Grant, 1878-1958

"Back to Billabong"

Memories of war and of
gloomy London fell away from them; only the bright present and a future
yet more bright filled them; and there was no loneliness, since all
the big new country had smiled to them and stretched out hands of
friendliness. They came back slowly to their house, arm in arm; two
young things, like shadows in the gloom, but certain in their own minds
that they could conquer Australia.
Bob lit the hanging lamp in the little sitting-room, and looked round
him proudly. A photograph caught his eye; a large group at his Surrey
Aerodrome, young officers clustered round a bi-plane that had just
landed.
"Poor chaps," he said, and stared at them. "Most of 'em don't know yet
that there's anything better in the world than flying."
"But they've never met merino sheep," said Tommy solemnly.

CHAPTER XIV
THE CUNJEE RACES

"Who's going to the races?" demanded Jim.
He had ridden over to the creek alone, and Tommy had come to the garden
gate to greet him, since the young horse he was riding firmly declined
to be tied up. It was a very hot morning in Christmas week. Tommy was in
a blue print overall, and her face was flushed, her hair lying in little
damp rings on her forehead. Jim, provokingly cool in riding breeches and
white silk shirt, smiled down at her across the gate.
"Races!" said Tommy. "But what frivolity. Why, I'm bottling apricots.


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