The ensuing crash stopped even the parson for a moment.
Bravely he began again. He paused occasionally for a sudden subterranean laugh to cease or to put one book after another on the shelf behind him out of the children's reach. Just as he read the last line of the Te Deum, "Oh Lord in Thee have I trusted, let me never be confounded," one of Liz's children tugged at his trousers, with a muzzled request that his teeth might be freed from a square of pink soap. Another offered to the baby Liz was nursing a pincushion she brought from the bedroom.
"Jyne," called Jinny from the veranda, "'ere cums young Tommy Tolbit by 'isself. You wus right, Jyne; she ain't cummin'!"
Even Jyne's gums gleamed; she looked triumphantly at Alick her husband, at Liz, then at all but Ned.
In shambled Tommy, moist and panting. He had been a drover, and had recently taken up a selection on the run. He was a bridegroom of a month's standing. His missus had been a servant at one of the hotels in the township.
"Made a start!" he remarked. His voice
