“His eyes hurt him still, with looking at Sydney,” said Jack.
“There certainly is enough of it to look at,” said Kangaroo.
“In acreage,” said Jack.
“Pity it spreads over so much ground,” said Somers.
“Oh, every man his little lot, and an extended tram-service.”
“In Rome,” said Somers, “they piled up huge houses, vast, and stowed them away like grubs in a honeycomb.”
“Who did the stowing?” asked Jack sarcastically.
“We don’t like to have anybody overhead here,” said Kangaroo. “We don’t even care to go upstairs, because we are then one storey higher than our true, ground-floor selves.”
“Prop us up on a dozen stumps, and we’re cosy,” said Jack. “Just a little above the earth level, and no higher, you know. Australians in their heart of hearts hate anything but a bungalow. They feel it’s rock bottom, don’t you see. None of your stair-climbing shams and upstairs importance.”
“Good honest fellows,” said Kangaroo, and it was impossible to know if he were joking or not.