Back The Unforgiving City
Chapters (41)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. PRAISE
  3. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  4. NOTE
  5. CHAPTER ONE: THE NOBLE LEGACY
  6. CHAPTER TWO: FROG HOLLOW
  7. CHAPTER THREE: THE RUM HOSPITAL
  8. CHAPTER FOUR: A HIGH IN THE BIGHT
  9. CHAPTER FIVE: ALWAYS DIFFERENT, ALWAYS THE SAME
  10. CHAPTER SIX: A DEAD CLERK
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN: THE CLEVER LIE
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT: A PLACE I CAN NEITHER SPELL NOR PRONOUNCE
  13. CHAPTER NINE: TRAVERSING THE DOMAIN
  14. CHAPTER TEN: THIS IS NOT IMPERIAL RUSSIA
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN: ANGEL OF MERCY
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE: HARD LABOUR
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: CORANGAMITE
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THRIVE
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE RESPECTABLE ESTABLISHMENT
  20. CHAPTER SIXTEEN: CINNAMON BISCUITS
  21. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE WIFE OF THE MINISTER
  22. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DO NOT TAKE OUR WORD FOR IT
  23. CHAPTER NINETEEN: OFFENCES AGAINST THE PERSON
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY: THE LETHARGY OF INDIFFERENCE
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: DECEIT
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: ANY TRAIN TO EMU PLAINS
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: DECEIT II
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: FLASH FLOOD
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: INDISPOSED
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: NO BABIES HERE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: LARGE EVENTS AND SMALL DETAILS
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: THE BABY FARM
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: STAGE FRIGHT
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY: UNTETHERED
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: WATERLOO
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: THE TRANSIENCE OF ALL THINGS
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: ASYLUM
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: BITTER
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: FEDERATION
  40. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  41. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

He had spent the day replying to correspondence, had spoken to a journalist from the Herald and another from the Mail and Advertiser. He had met delegations of town officials from Goulburn and Bathurst and Cooma, provincially clothed self-satisfied men, each convinced of their own importance, each convinced their town and their town alone should be made the federal capital. He had listened to their arguments, he had pointed out that the referendum had yet to happen, that there would be no federal capital at all if it did not pass.

‘Gentlemen, we are building a nation!’ he had said to the town officials and again to the journalist from the Herald, words he had spoken a hundred, two hundred times this twelve-month, but today the words had fallen from his mouth like a platitude, empty, devoid of meaning.

For Miss Trent was nowhere to be found.

He had gone to the house at Woolloomooloo on Saturday evening and had stood at her door and she had not answered. He had returned the following evening, though it was a Sunday, but the outcome had been the same. He had walked around the exterior of the house, looking up at the windows, some lighted, some in darkness, had waited for a time in the shadows, had started forward as a carriage appeared, as a figure had approached the house, as another had emerged from it. Had slunk back into the shadows at each fresh disappointment. He had left, finally, debased and shamed. And yet he would go there again this evening, though he and Eleanor were to attend a dinner first.

The dinner was at the house of Charles Booker-Reid, a man he despised, a dinner at which nothing of importance would be uttered and at which his presence would make no difference, and yet Booker-Reid wielded some influence still, had the ear of one or two prominent men. And so he would take Eleanor to dinner, though his heart strained within its cage so that he stood for a long time, unmoving, outside his house.

Eleanor opened the front door to him. He wondered if she had been watching for him. It irked him that she had done so—did they not have servants?

‘My dear, you look fatigued,’ she said, standing in the doorway to deliver this charge. ‘How went your meeting? Come inside, the fire is lit in the drawing room. Let Alice bring you some refreshment.’

And at last she stood aside to let him enter.