"I never, Ma. I said I 'ate it. Y' kissed me, did y' or didn't y'? Well, I '_ate_ it."
He was gone on Lucy, like a little demon. Jack, sitting stupid on a chair, felt part of his soul go with him.
"Come on, Bow!" said Monica, taking him by the arm, "Come and go to sleep. Mary will wake you if Herbert wants you."
And she led him off to the door of the cubby, while he submitted and Easu stood in his stocking feet on the verandah watching.
"He saved Herbert's life," said Monica, looking up at Easu with a kind of defiance, when she came back.
Tom and Jack were to leave the next day. The girls brought out a lot of stores from the cupboard, and blankets and billies and a lantern. They packed the sacks standing there.
"Get y' swag f'y'selves," said Dad. "The men have everything for themselves. Take an axe an' a gun apiece."
"Shut up, Len. Destroy all the dingoes y' can. I'll give y' sixpence a head, an' the Government gives another. Haven't y' a saddle, Jack Grant, somewhere in a box? Because I'd be short of one off the place, if you took one from here."
"Get it unpacked. An' you can have Lucy to put it across. It's forty mile from here to virgin forest: real forest. If you get strayed, ever, all you have to do is to drop th' reins on Lucy's neck, 'n shell bring y' in."
The saddle came out of the dusty box. All were there in a circle to look on. Jack expected deep admiration. But he was hurt to feel Monica laughing derisively. Everybody was laughing, but he minded Monica most. She could jeer cruelly.
"Slithery. No knee-pads, saddle bags, strap holder, scooped seat, or any sortta comfort. It's a whale, on the wrong side."
Lennie closely examined the London ticket. The unpacking continued in silence, under Tom's majestic eye. Whip, yellow horse-rug, bridle, leathers, a heavy bar bit with double rings and curb, saddle cloths, reins, extra special blue-and-gold girths wrapped in tissue paper, nickel cross rowell jockey spurs, and glittering steel stirrup-irons. Cord breeches, Assam silk coat, white water-proof linen stocks, leather gaiters, and a pair of leather gauntlets completed the amazing disclosure. It was all a mighty gift from one of the unforgiven Aunts.
Half way through the unpacking Tom gave a groan and walked away; but walked back. Og and Magog stole the saddle, slung it across a bar, and slid off and on rapturously. Monica was laughing at him disagreeably: strange and brutal, as if she hated him: rather like Easu. And Lennie was tittering with joy.