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Madam Mayor moved away, without another word. None of my children were ever to be invited to a Council function.

The long line of white-gowned debutantes passed before us, on the arms of suitable young men of the establishment. The symbolic virgins were brought forward to be shown to the elders of the tribe. Speeches were made by the Mayor and Sir James, reinforcing confidence in those values which had made our nation great -- social status and money. Then there were some attempts at dancing, and eventually a more enthusiastic move downstairs to where a sumptuous supper had been served. It was close to midnight before we could escape.

I was up early on election day as usual -- a little sick on the stomach but looking forward to a final clash with Meers. It had been an exhausting year, and now all the hard work would be put to the ultimate test. It was going to be a warm, sunny day, and everything was ready for the climax of the campaign.

The  Manly Daily  editorial pretended to be sitting on the fence for this election:


"The last shots have been fired in the State election campaign and the people of NSW go to the polls today to elect their new State Government.

"Even the most enthusiastic Liberal supporters

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