Duclie. You're getting quite a man of business. If you're so much improved in an hour, what will you be in a year? Really, I'm quite proud of my handiwork. And oh, one thing, dearest! don't forget—it's most important (impressively)—have your hair cut by Adger! You see it is a little long (touches his hair)—thinking of your woes, I suppose? But we respect the fashions in Australia, though you mightn't think it. You'd better not be eccentric.
Egremont (laughs). Anything else, Miss Polyblock? I see the foreshadowing of an oligarchy. But it will be a benevolent despotism, I trust?
Duclie. Bless me! how late it is! The sun is quite low. I shall have to ride fast. Don't you lose a moment either.
Egremont. Trust me; but—one minute—as a reward for my unquestioning obedience, don't you think
ACT V
Mr. Polyblock (discovered walking up and down the library). Well, I don't know as ever I spent a more miserable month. Dulcie don't take no interest in the things as used to amuse her. I don't know what's come to the gal. If I could see my way at all, and thought this young chap was steady and sensible—likely to get on—I might push him; but—a free selector—a half-section, crawling duffer as won't have grass for a milker nor credit for a bag of flour in another year—No! I couldn't think of it. It's enough to make a man turn agin his own flesh and blood. (Knocking heard.) Who's that?
Maid. A gentleman wants to see you, sir.
Mr. Polyblock. Who is it? That chap as was going to buy the Weejoglag store-cattle, p'raps?
Enter Cecil Egremont, dressed in tweeds.
Mr. Polyblock. Oh, it's you, Mr. Eggermont! (Aside—How well the feller looks! Holds up his head too! Dashed if he ain't a fine, upstanding, good-looking chap when he's turned out decent! He looked more like a shearer when I
