Jaz laughed, looking back at Richard’s intense eyes.
“What a man you are, Mr Somers!” he said. “Come and live in Sydney and you won’t find it such a big jump from anywhere else.”
“No, I wouldn’t want to live in Sydney. I’d want to go back in the bush near one of the little townships. It’s like wanting a woman, Jaz. I want it.”
“Then why not do it?”
“I won’t give in, not yet. It’s like giving in to a woman; I won’t give in yet. I’ll come back later.”
Jaz suddenly looked at Richard and smiled maliciously.
“You won’t give in, Mr Somers, will you? You won’t give in to the women, and Australia’s like a woman to you. You wouldn’t give in to Kangaroo, and he’s dead now. You won’t give in to Labour, or Socialism. Well, now, what will you do? Will you give in to America, do you think?”
“Heaven preserve me—if I’m to speak beforehand.”
“Why, Mr Somers!” laughed Jaz, “seems to me you just go round the world looking for things you’re not going to give in to. You’re as bad as we folk.”
“Maybe,” said Richard. “But I’ll give in to the Lord Almighty, which is more than you’ll do—”