You won't know us when you marry
the owner of Kuryong. What's she like, Gav? Pretty girl, ain't she?
Has she any sense?"
"Much as you have," growled Blake.
"Oh, don't get nasty. Only I thought you were a bit shook on the
governess there--what about that darnce at the Show ball, eh? I
say, you couldn't lend us a tenner till Saturday?"
"No, I could not--" And this was the literal truth, for Gavan Blake
had run himself right out of money, and was living on credit--not
an enviable position at any time, and one doubly insupportable to
a man of his temperament. And again his thoughts went back to the
girl he had saved, and he pondered how different things might have
been--might, perhaps, still be.
CHAPTER XI.
A WALK IN THE MOONLIGHT.
The Court at Ballarook was over, and Gavan Blake turned his horses'
heads in a direction he had never taken before--along the road to
Kuryong. As he drove along, his thoughts were anything but pleasant.
Behind him always stalked the grim spectre of detection and arrest;
and, even should a lucky windfall help to pay his debts, he could
not save the money either to buy a practice in Sydney or to maintain
himself while he was building one up. He thought of the pitiful
smallness of his chances at Tarrong, and then of Ellen Harriott.
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