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‘I could tell that,’ he nodded, ‘even though you tried to leave once.’

‘More than once,’ she admitted.

‘I meant the time you wrote a letter.’

‘You took it?’ Her eyes widened.

‘Yes.'

‘I thought it blew away with the wind.’

‘It didn’t. That was something I still can’t understand; you loved it here but you tried to go. You’re trying now.'

‘I wasn’t wanted.’

‘George
wasn’t wanted,' he corrected.

‘And you're being married.'

‘That's true.' A pause. ‘When, do you want to say?’

‘When?’ she asked obediently.

‘When are we being married?—Oh, yes, I intended that even before we met,’ he grinned at her expression.

‘You—you what?'

‘Never at any moment have I had any doubts about you, Brown, or about my purposes. Shall I tell you why? Part of my university course was psychology, and that application you wrote me was as plain as the freckled nose on your face. It just screamed Girl.'

‘But that was only supposition,' she objected.

‘Perhaps,' he nodded, ‘but not a girl in a wurlie. I saw you that day you were swimming.'

‘You couldn’t,’ she protested, ‘I was under a rock.’

‘I saw you. There was,' he grinned, ‘a frog sitting on your nose. That was when the game was nearly up. I admired you for your fortitude, and I said: ‘I’ll give him—her a chance.' '

‘But how did you come to look in that wurlie?' Georgina demanded.

‘Now your stepfather comes into it. You told me he once said that mirages were scenes that were somewhere else and mirrored back to you; I was on the track that day and I saw this mirage—you in a pool.’

‘You didn’t!’ Her cheeks were flaming.

‘Why else did I come, then? After that it was so easy to piece together, it was child’s play. Your nervousness at our being together, the way you would always shrink away if we were in any way close. Oh, I laughed myself sick often. Brown.’

‘I’m glad I amused you,’ she said stiffly.

‘Yes, but you puzzled me, too. You owed your stepsister something, I gather?’

‘Her father’s papers,’ she told him. ‘I wanted them. I wanted to mould them and present them as he would have wished. Joanne would just have sold them for what she could get.’

‘Well, she won’t be worrying about them now,’ he said.

‘Are you sad about that? I mean, the money?’

‘I’m not rejoicing, but I reckon we’ll have enough.'

‘You keep on saying “we”,’ she faltered. ‘Are you just baiting me?’

‘What do you think?’ His eyes smiled.

‘I think you could be. After all, I’m no—no—catch.’ ‘

Shall I tell you something, George? Out in the desert I used to lie at night re-designing you. I let your hair grow longer and I put you in a dress. Remember the night of the Min-Min Lights?’

‘Always,' she said softly.

‘Then you would be shocked, George, at how very near I was to forcing you to change your sex.’ His blue eyes were very close to hers now. ‘You were two nights on the road with Craig Everson. You’ll have to tell me how that happened later ... But tell me now, were you boy or girl then?’

‘Girl. But,' at an anger growing in the blue eyes, ‘he wasn’t a man to me. I mean He was helpful, and I liked him. It wasn’t till later that I disliked him and I saw how he went through women as Joanne went through men. They should suit each other.’ She paused. ‘Poor Larry, did he hurt you very much?’

‘Hurt me?’ he echoed.

‘Through Elva and the three girls in the three photos.’

‘The harem?’ he chuckled. ‘No, those photos couldn’t hurt because they were my stepsisters. Oh, yes, George, other people beside you are inflicted with steps. My stepmother, of whom I was very fond, brought three young girls with her marriage, and when she died they became my responsibility. Getting them wed was no fun, I can tell you, especially with Everson around, going through each in turn until I finally threw him out. Luckily they all got over it and found someone else and are now living happily ever after ... I hope.’

‘And—Elva?’

‘Elva was another Joanne, she was out for what she could get. Craig Everson was attracted to her and took her off my hands, but it didn’t last long. Now,’ a moment of apparent contemplation, ‘what else is there to be said?’

But nothing had been said, Georgina thought. Wasn’t he aware of that? Didn’t he realise that not once had he told her why he had announced: ‘We are being married’? Then what about how she felt, he had not asked her that.

‘No, nothing, George,’ he agreed blandly, reading her thoughts. Then he looked hard at her, and she knew he was waiting, and being the mighty Roper, he would keep waiting until she gave in.

‘Do I always have to be the one to say things?’ she burst out at last.

‘Well, I can scarcely say “Larry, I love you,” can I?’ he pointed out.

‘Larry, I love you,’ she blurted, then she waited for his response.

When it came she was astonished at its sweetness. There was nothing, she knew in that moment, more wonderful than for a woman to be a woman.

‘I love you, Georgina Brown,’ said the mighty Roper, and the man took the woman in his arms.