Kangaroo (Historical Novel). D. H. Lawrence

laughed Harriet. “I hope not, I’m sure.”

      “You must have given him a glad eye,” said Jack. “Did he come in?”

      “Yes, he came in and talked to me quite a long time. He said he would see you to-morrow in town.”

      “Wonders never cease! I tell you, you’ve done it on him. What did he talk to you about, then?”

      “Oh. Australia. He said he didn’t think we should really like it.”

      “He did, did he? Wanted to warn you off, so to speak.”

      “Perhaps,” laughed Harriet.

      “The little mingo. He’s as deep as a five hundred feet boring, and I’ve never got down to sweet water in him yet.”

      “Don’t you trust him?” said Harriet.

      “Trust him? Oh yes, he’d never pick my pocket.”

      “I didn’t mean that.”

      “That’s the only way I have of trusting folks,” said Jack.

      “Then you don’t trust them far,” mocked Harriet.

      “Perhaps I don’t. And perhaps I’m wise of it.”