"I don't need a doctor... I'm depressed. I just need to rest..."Who was he, this strange unfamiliar Doctor Wilson? It didn't make sense that he should...be a doctor. He was an Arab and Wilson clearly wasn't an Arabic name."You do need a doctor, Cecily," Albert corrected, and he was patient, like a calm, long suffering father with a disobedient daughter, but not a Western father with a Western daughter. This was a different culture altogether. "You've had a mishap and Doctor Wilson is here to look. Collins. What do you think it would take to build a place on that land the railway owns?”“It would depend on how big and how fancy. Something like this, perhaps £350 or £400, since they wouldn’t need to buy land.”“Well, I’ll be reporting to Brisbane tomorrow. Have you had much demand for this?”Collins laughed. “By the road and across from the tracks? None at all.”“And I report I can get the house for no more than £300 and it might take £400 or more to build?”“The railway’d pay cash? No. More

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