And I'd given their gins rations that very morning.' 'And then ?' Lady Bridget's voice was tense.
'Oh then--after they'd murdered a white man or two, the rest of us whites--there wasn't more than a handful of us at that time up on the Leura--banded together and drove them off into the back country.

We had a dangerous job with those Blacks until King Mograbar was shot down.' 'King Mograbar! How cruelly unjust.

It was his country you were STEALING.' She accentuated the last word with bitter scorn.
'Well! If you come to that, I suppose Captain Cook was stealing when he hoisted the British flag in Botany Bay,' said McKeith.
'And if he hadn't, what about the glorious British record, and the March of Civilisation ?' put in Vereker Wells.
Bridget shot a scathing glance at the aide-de-camp.
'I don't admire your glorious British record, I think it's nothing but a record of robbery, murder, and cruelty, beginning with Ireland and ending with South Africa.' 'Oh! my dear!--I warn you,' said Lady Tallant, bending from her end of the table and addressing the Leichardt'stonians generally.

'Lady Bridget is a little Englander, a pro-Boer, a champion of the poor oppressed native.

If she had been alive then she'd have wanted to hand India back to the Indians after the Mutiny, and now when she has made Cecil Rhodes Emperor of Rhodesia, she'll give over all the rest again to the Dutch.' Bridget responded calmly to the indictment.
'Yes, I would--if Cecil Rhodes were to decline the Emperorship of all South Africa--which I should make his job....