I might convert you--but in the Back-Blocks.' 'Or I might convert YOU.' He shook his head, and then laughed in a shy, boyish way.
'There's no knowing what might happen--but in the Back-Blocks.' Lady Bridget leaned forward.

'Tell me about them--Tell me about your life in the Bush and what makes you hate the Blacks.' 'What makes me hate the Blacks ?' he repeated slowly and the soft look on his face changed now to one very dour and grim.
'You do hate them, don't you?
Mr McKeith, the Premier told me something about you last night, which simply filled me with horror.

If I believed it--or unless I knew that what you did had been in honourable warfare, I don't think I could bear to speak to you again.

Now, I'm going to ask you if it's true.' 'If what is true?
Lady Bridget, I'll tell you the truth if you ask me for it, about anything I've done.

But--I warn you--ugly things happen--in the Back-Blocks.' 'The Premier said that you were the terror of the natives.