Not a year ago, and no reputable woman walked abroad oftener than she could help: now, even at this hour, the streets were starred with them.

Purdy, open-mouthed, his eyes a-dance, turned his head this way and that, pointed and exclaimed.

But then HE had slept like a log, and felt in his own words "as fit as a fiddle." Whereas Mahony had sat his horse the whole night through, had never ceased to balance himself in an imaginary saddle.

And when at daybreak he had fallen into a deeper sleep, he was either reviewing outrageous females on Purdy's behalf, or accepting wagers to kiss them.
Hence, diverting as were the sights of the city, he did not come to them with the naive receptivity of Purdy.

It was, besides, hard to detach his thoughts from the disagreeable affair that had brought him to Melbourne.