The Foot of Time: A Novel of Australia and the South Seas: (1933)

232
THE FOOT OF TIME
me, Dad," Edith informed him. "I don't want to
marry him, that's all."
"Hoity-toity! Just listen to the likes of that,
now!" a much mollified William Burne retorted.
"Well, well! I can make allowances. We all say
things we don't rightly mean when we're put
out, as the saying is. All right, lassie, I won't be
hard on 'im. You can leave us now, my girlie, and
I'll show the young fellow out. He saved of your
life; I'm not forgetting of it. The boy's good
enough—it's his breeding—his dreadful, awful,
atrocious breeding!"
Burne stood aside for Bruce to pass out through
their front door. Edith left them and went right
away—out of the house in the opposite direction
to that Bruce was bound to take to the railway
station. Burne and Bruce were left alone together.
"Before you go, Mr. Swinton, let's 'ave this out
straight and true, man to man. We've both said
more than what we mean, I make no doubt, in the
'eat of anger, like. I'm not a 'ard man, I 'opeleastways,
I try to be a decent Christian. It's this
way. Don't think I feel any the worse towards you
because you threaten to konk me one on the point,
so to put it—I don't, far from it, laddie. If I was
young as you, nothing would give me greater pleasure
than to 'put 'em up' to you. You speak like
a man. Also, when you saved my little Edie, sonny,
damme, you acted like one! I think more of that
little 'un, boy, than what it is possible for you to
imagine. I wouldn't have a hair of her pretty 'ead
hurt—that I wouldn't. It's because I love 'er so
THE FOOT OF TIME
233
that makes me particular—if so be as I am particular—so
wishful to see her marry good. Now,
when I see you was getting soft-like on her, I says
to myself, 'All right, let 'em 'ave a good spin
together. I like the boy,' I thinks to myself, likes
him grand.' Why, damme, young Bruce, when you
went for to fetch our gal out of the sea I wished
you was our own boy, and so I told the missus. Then
you went away, I don't know for why, and I don't
care. 'Tisn't ony business of mine. I expect you
was studying—travelling to complete your education,
like. Anyhow, when you comes back the
missus and I could see that there was something
amiss, and when the news got to me (as news always
does, given time) that your Ma had gone and
divorced your father, then, of course, the thing was
clear as paint. 'Tain't no fault of yourn, boy. I
like you, I own I do. Damme, Swinton, you're a
man after my own heart, and I do 'ear as how your
engineering work is real good-oh. Well, boy, I wish
you well of it. No one don't wish you weller of it
than what I do. If Missus was home—but she's
gone to Sydney for the day—she'd say the same.
She's real proud to know you. But when it comes
to marrying—well, it's over, so there's no call for
me to rake it up again."
"None at all, Mr. Burne," Bruce put in.
"But, boy, listen to my final words. I know life
—I'm no green 'orn. Girls 'ave been known to
change their minds. You're a boy among boys—I
mean to say, you ain't a boy amongst boys, you
stand head and shoulders above most of them. And