And the bit of bark, sapless, brown, curled up by the heat into almost a tube, and partially eaten by white ants--before the desecrating assault had been discovered and the termites' nest destroyed with boiling water--was still cherished as a sacred symbol.
While she swung in the hammock the memory pictures came and went like a cinematograph show--the dream-drive presently merging into an electioneering trip through McKeith's constituency a few weeks after her bridal homecoming.
The 'Lady of Quality' might, had she been so minded, have also made spicy capital out of the humours of that political contest--in which, unhappily, the Labour Party had triumphed.

Steadbolt had had his say on the occasion, and there had been a free fight--Lady Bridget was not present, and only heard darkly of the occurrence--when Steadbolt had got the worst of it in an encounter with his late employer.
But all that was but a small side-show, and not likely to affect in any great measure Lady Bridget's life.

Except that the loss of McKeith's seat in the Legislative Assembly made it no longer necessary for him to spend at least part of the winter session in Leichardt's Town.

Nor would Lady Bridget have the opportunity to resume her old intimacy at Government House.

In any case, however, she was not destined to see more of her old friend in Australia.