until we were too old to enjoy it. If we had to go down in the world again,
we might as well fall out of a buggy as out of a dray --
there'd be some talk about it, anyway, and perhaps a little sympathy.
When Mary had the buggy she wouldn't be tied down so much
to that wretched hole in the Bush; and the Sydney trips needn't be off either.
I could drive down to Wallerawang on the main line, where Mary
had some people, and leave the buggy and horses there,
and take the train to Sydney; or go right on, by the old coach-road,
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