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

74 THE FOOT OF TIME
quiet—there appeared some measure of justification
for Bruce to take her arm. He had never done so
previously, but—well, Bower Street has an upward
incline.
The couple took their love-making rather as a
matter of course, partly because a city restaurant
is not precisely an ideal spot for romance, and,
secondly, in view of the young people being in
their different ways of a rather unusual degree of
independence of character.
But already the short route to the house of
Florence Tooth gave promise of surroundings more
amenable to the atmosphere of romance. Each felt
it. There was a slight restraint between them—
the lull before the storms of love and all that it
stands for.
Florence sat in frozen dignity busily plying her
spy-glass. It afforded a good medium to disguise
some flutterings inside her apron, her bombastic
exterior being merely a cloak to hide a degree of
weakness within, the existence of which was known
to but one person.
Edith's aunt greeted Bruce with characteristic
abruptness.
"Well, Mr. Swinton," she began, "so you've
come. I thought you would. Edith would have it
that it wasn't certain you would be able to get
away. I knew better. Don't tell me. I've been
young myself. Come and see my bay."
Florence Tooth always referred to everything
appertaining to Manly as hers, and she certainly
had a finger in every pie ever baked there.
THE FOOT OF TIME 75
Engineering the young fellow to herself, Florence
informed him: "I gather from my niece that you
are in love with her. If you aren't, then you ought
to be--especially since you saved her life. That
was very noble of you, boy."
"We are very good friends," the boy replied,
non-commitantly.
"Friends!" ejaculated Edith's aunt. "Fiddlesticks!
Stuff and rubbish! Don't tell me. You're in
love with her. Edith's the dearest girl God ever
made, always supposing there is such a person. Of
course you love her! Why shouldn't you? Tell me
that."
Bruce Arbuthnot looked at Florence with toleration—toleration
and amusement. "Excuse me, Miss
Tooth," he suggested, "but I didn't come here—I
mean I didn't accept your very kind invitation to
discuss Miss Edith."
Florence looked a trifle taken aback. She wasn't
used to being snubbed, particularly in her own
preserves. All Manly bent the knee to her. Well,
her cheque-book knew it. Her brother-in-law out
at Orange was the only person who never failed to
call a spade a spade, and commit her to the fury
of the fires which burn for ever.
"Very smart, Mr. Swinton, very smart, but you
don't fool me, my boy. Look! I know what you
young men are. I was young myself once. I won't
have my niece played fast and loose with. If you
love her, tell her so."
"May I suggest," Bruce replied with suppressed
anger, "may I suggest that it is just possible I have