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409 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 1, 2023
...his own Presbyterian need for a bell to civilise, indeed to drown out the pollinating salt airs of this small inlet into, and out of, the sea. (p.69)
No schoolbell, no churchbell, no bell for service nor for storm. Just the silence that is so filled with sound. The reach of the pealing bell of the moonlured surf, beseeching no one at the rivermouth. That, I came to believe, through the pressure of engagement, is the only bell of auditory range that ever an inlet wanted to be heard.
But still: a niceness in the offing, something coming our way other than weather, that's what caused the bitter unsuccessful petition to so deepen and endure. (p.66)
In a novel procedure Miss Hutchinson had adjusted the workings and thus the sound of the homestead's grand piano with the following items from the field: a bullock bone, a piece of ironbark, a banksia cob, a scrap of 8 gauge wire, a kangaroo rib, a train ticket, a fray of crinoline, a bandage, a letter, fern fronds, a bridle hasp and fox-fur. (p.61)