| Girl: | Slim, medium size. | One. |
| Eyes: | Grey-blue; large, more or less innocent. | Two. |
| Mouth: | Red, Bow-shaped, largish. | One. |
| Nose: | Straight, in perfect shape. | One. |
| Hair: | Slightly golden, bobbed. | One complete head. |
Diana was as unrecognisable from the inventory as the average man from the description on his passport. She had the atmosphere of spring and dawn. Her colouring belonged to such season and time, having a pink of its own and a whiteness which looked pink when compared with white. She moved with such supple grace that Mr. Cathcart suspected an entire absence of corsets—he was a married man.
She came impulsively to Mr. Collings and kissed him. Mr. William Cathcart closed his eyes, so did not meet the smirk of satisfaction which his partner loosened for his benefit.
“Good morning, Uncle. Good morning, Uncle Cathcart.”
“’Mornin’,” said Mr. Cathcart, hostile to the last.
“’Mornin’!” she boomed in imitation. “And I’ve come feeling awfully nice toward you! I called you ‘Uncle’!”
“I heard you,” glowered the newly elected relative. “It would be much better, Miss Ford, if we proceeded on business lines——”
“You can proceed on tram lines if that pleases you,” she sighed, taking off her hat and tossing it on to the nearest deed-box. “Oh, Uncle Collings, I’m sick!”
Mr. Cathcart half rose in his alarm.
“Sick of Australia, sick of the station, sick of the people, sick of everything. I’m going home.”