One of the passengers then pressed to the side of the car and there slid into his arms a crumpled figure in a blue dress. He was a big man, and he carried with ease the limp body into the doctor’s house, immediately followed by Dr. Mulray himself.
Mrs. Nelson lowered the glasses. She was repeating over and over: “Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”
She saw Fred Storrie come racing to the hotel corner in answer to James’s shout. He ran on to the doctor’s house, and the male portion of the crowd stared after him when he rushed inside.
And then the first of a long succession of sand waves rolled over the township, blotting out Nogga Creek and the Common, smearing into semi-obscurity the bakery on the far side of the street. Mrs. Nelson almost collapsed into her chair. She went on repeating softly as though stunned:
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”
Chapter Three
The Wind
“MARTIN, AREN’T YOU well this morning?”
The strong but well-modulated voice penetrated the consciousness of the young man lying on the bed. About him, washing against him, and against the bed, were the strange and yet familiar vibrations set up by the gale of wind sweeping over and about the stout Wirragatta homestead.
Martin Borradale stirred, opened his grey eyes, moved wide his arms. The light from the tall closedfrench windows was of tinted yellow. It cast the girl’s face in shadow, which was yet no shadow, and itlaid a shade of drabness over the interior of the room which normally was very pleasant. Round of head, her dressing-gown-encased body long and beautifully curved and set firmly on small feet, Stella Borradale regarded her brother from the foot of the bed.
“Hullo, old thing! Phew! I feel deadly,” replied Martin. “I’ve got a headache and lots of other aches as well. I might have been playing football half the night instead of dancing.”