Merston looked around her. "And where does your husband
sleep?" she said.
"Across the passage. His room is about the same size as this.
They are not very big, are they?"
"You are very lucky to have such a home," said Mrs. Merston. "Ours
is nothing but a corrugated iron shed divided into two parts."
"Really?" Sylvia opened her eyes. "That doesn't sound very nice
certainly. Haven't you got a verandah even--I beg its pardon, a
_stoep_?"
"We have nothing at all that makes for comfort," declared Mrs.
Merston, with bitter emphasis. "We live like pigs in a sty!"
"Good heavens!" said Sylvia. "I shouldn't like that."
"No, you wouldn't. It takes a little getting used to. But you'll
go through the mill presently. All we farmers' wives do. You and
Burke Ranger won't go on in this Garden of Eden style very long."
Sylvia laughed with a touch of uncertainty. "I suppose it's a
mistake to expect too much of life anywhere," she said. "But it's
difficult to be miserable when one is really busy, isn't it?
Anyhow one can't be bored."
"Are you really happy here?" Mrs. Merston asked point-blank, in the
tone of one presenting a challenge.
Sylvia paused for a moment, only a moment, and then she answered,
"Yes."
"And you've been married how long? Six weeks?"
"About that," said Sylvia.
Mrs. Merston looked at her, and an almost cruel look came into her
pale eyes.
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