sband expect an explanation
when he had literally thrown her into her lover's arms, or at least had
left her defenceless against his solicitations! Had he treated her
differently after the Wombo episode in the beginning, she might have
told him the truth about her former relations with Willoughby Maule.

As things had been, it was rather for Maule than for Colin that she
found excuse.

She was bitterly hurt and offended against her husband. Oh, yes. He was
right. They could never again be the same to each other. If he had come
back penitent, pleading for forgiveness, overwhelmed with contrition at
her dismissal of Maule, she might then perhaps have explained
everything and they might have become reconciled. But now, his vile
temper, his insupportable manner, his dominant egoism made any attempt
of conciliation on her part impossible. She had a temper too--she told
herself, and her anger was righteous. And she also had an egoism that
wouldn't allow itself to be trampled on. She had rights--of birth, of
breeding, to say nothing of her rights of wifehood and womanhood for
which she must insist upon respect. If he would not bend to her, even
to show her ordinary consideration and courtesy, then she would not
lower her pride one iota before him.

Thoughts of this kind went through her mind as she lay smarting under
the burning sense of outrage, until the reappearance of Mrs Hensor.
Then, the new effort she made in sending away the woman exhausted brain
and body and left her with scarcely the power to think--certainly not
to reason.

CHAPTER 7

But Lady Bridget did not know what had followed upon her husband's
home-coming. She had not been in a condition to realize how all night
through he had tended her, putting aside every other consideration,
giving no heed to the affairs of the station, refusing to see the
Police Inspector who had sent in an urgent message soon after his
arrival.

Only when turning for a moment to the veranda and noticing the red
glare in the sky, had he been startled out of his absorption in his
wife's illness. In ordinary circumstances, he would have been on his
horse in a twinkling and riding as for life to fight the worst foe a
squatter has to face in times of drought. He knew that if the fire
spread, it might mean his ruin. As it was, he rushed up to the Quarters
to rouse Ninnis and send him with Moongarr Bill and all available hands
to do what he could in arresting the flames. But he