'But this part of it will soon be over.' He got up, pulled the blind down behind her, and readjusted the cabbage leaf under her head.

Just then, the train pulled up at a station where there were selectors' holdings, and a German woman was lugging along a crate of garden produce.

He jumped out and bought another cabbage from which he shredded a fresh cool leaf for her pillow.

And at that they laughed and he relapsed into normal commonplace.
When she got out at Fig Tree Mount, he took her across the sandy street to the nearest and largest of the public houses which had 'Station Hotel' printed on it in big blue letters--a glaring, crude, zinc-roofed box with a dirty veranda that seemed a receptacle for rubbish and a lounge for kangaroo dogs, to say nothing of drunken men.

The dogs took no notice of the male loungers, but started a vigorous barking at the sight of a lady.