“Oh!  You needn’t look,” laughed Nellie.  “I make my own dresses and trim my own hats.  A woman wouldn’t think much of the stuff either.”

“I want to tell you how obliged I was for that money, Ned,” continued Nellie, an expression of pain on her face.  “There was no one else I could ask, and I needed it so.  It was very kind—­”

“Ugh!  That’s nothing,” interrupted Ned, hiding his bashfulness under a burst of boisterousness.  “Why, Nellie, I’d like you to be sending to me regular.  It might just as well come to you as go any other way.  If you ever do want a few pounds again, Nellie,”—­he added, seriously, “I can generally manage it.  I’ve got plenty just now—­far more than I’ll ever need.”  This with wild exaggeration.  “You might as well have it as not.  I’ve got nobody.”

“Thanks, just the same, Ned!  When I do want it I’ll ask you.  I’m afraid I’ll never have any money to lend you if you need it, but if I ever do you know where to come.”

“It’s a bargain, Nellie,” said Ned.  Then, eager to change the subject, feeling awkward at discussing money matters because he would have been so willing to have given his last penny to anybody he felt friends with, much less to the girl by his side: 

“But where are we going?”

“To see Sydney!” said Nellie.

They had turned several times since they started but the neighborhood remained much the same.  The streets, some wider, some narrower, all told of sordid struggling.  The shops were greasy, fusty, grimy.  The groceries exposed in their windows damaged specimens of bankrupt stocks, discolored tinned goods, grey sugars, mouldy dried fruits; at their doors, flitches of fat bacon, cut and dusty.  The meat with which the butchers’ shops overflowed was not from show-beasts, as Ned could see, but the cheaper flesh of over-travelled cattle, ancient oxen, ewes too aged for bearing; all these lean scraggy flabby-fleshed carcasses surrounded and blackened by buzzing swarms of flies that invaded the foot-path outside in clouds.  The draperies had tickets, proclaiming unparalleled bargains, on every piece; the whole stock seemed displayed outside and in the doorway.  The fruiterers seemed not to be succeeding in their rivalry with each other and with the Chinese hawkers.  The Chinese shops were dotted everywhere, dingier than any other, surviving and succeeding, evidently, by sheer force of cheapness.  The roadways everywhere were hard and bare, reflecting the rays of the ascending sun until the streets seemed to be Turkish baths, conducted on a new and gigantic method.  There was no green anywhere, only unlovely rows of houses, now gasping with open doors and windows for air.

Air!  That was what everything clamoured for, the very stones, the dogs, the shops, the dwellings, the people.  If it was like this soon after ten, what would it be at noon?