Half a century later, Shirley wrote of this period: “Misery, foreboding, a life sentence … In this cruel time I wanted to die. Looking back, I wonder that I didn’t. The worst, beyond worst, of all was of course the lack of letters.” Again, there is some extravagance in the recollection. She had in fact received two letters from Alec that first month in Sydney, the first arriving only a week after she did. In the letters Alec is pragmatic and makes light of her trials: “As for the shorthand—it’s your own fault. However, if it gets you a job in the Australian Legation in London, it’s worth it.” Just as Shirley adopted a flip and ironic tone writing to Alan and Chris, so too Alec, while fond, was also laconic and humorous: “Dear Shirley, I got your letter yesterday and was, strangely enough, delighted. I need not tell you but will, as I know how young you are, that since you went away I have had moments of sadness that annoyed me very much. However I expect I shall be able to push this sort of weakness down into the less frequented byways of my soul.” While Shirley’s letters to him have not survived, it appears she had adopted a similar tone. Alec continued: “You make little of what must have been the most frightening few days in your life. Your poor mum must have been in a helluva state, particularly in Charlieville [sic].”

The disclosure shifted the discussion significantly, away from Shirley’s larger anxieties and her desire to hear the language of devotion toward Alec’s more pragmatic focus. He was concerned that his financial circumstances were not strong, writing in December that he felt “selfish and inconsiderate at having asked you to share so little,” and he suggested that it might be wiser for them to wait until he had had a chance to establish himself on a surer financial footing. He was also concerned that farming might not be Shirley’s ideal life:

If you are prepared, I am fairly confident that we shall make out, albeit probably never to the extent of attending cocktail parties regularly twice a week … We have a house to live in and even now I have gathered together more than the minimum in the way of furniture, linen and all the other oddses that a house has to have. The future prospects are that unless a major disaster occurs to me or the farm, I should be in a position to set up on my own in about six years’ time. The main snags are not that we shall starve but that the life of a farmer’s wife may strike you as being too dull and lacking in scope. This is a serious and vital aspect of the thing and you will have to judge for yourself when you arrive in this country. I am peculiar in that I like this sort of life and would have no other. You probably do not know whether you like it or not being guided for the moment by your whatsit. I could not blame you if having seen the set-up you told me to go to hell. That would be a pity as you are the only girl I have ever wanted to marry but don’t let that influence you too much.

I have been trying to write to you times without number but have failed because you are too far away and because we have not seen each other for such a long time. I feel and have felt for a long time that I have made a mess of things in thinking I could shape this life into something that I could ask you to share with me. I realize that you will dismiss material considerations, but I also know that a minimum must be there for us to make a success of it. The minimum does not look like materializing for a long time to come. The enterprise is up to now a success but to get it that way meant unremitting hard work and will continue to mean that for another two years or possibly more. By this I mean that I get up at half past four and work till dark. I never go out for pleasure and am too tired to live and think as a human being. In addition to all this I find myself increasingly frustrated at the thought of doing nothing more, but just living. While I was laid up I was pressed down by the blackness of the prospect and of the horror of your disillusionment after you had seen for yourself. Don’t for God’s sake think I am saying all this to cover up anything else. There is nothing and nobody—it’s just that the life I had visualized is not coming out as planned and I see no light in the distance. Please forgive me for hurting you and remember it is I not you that have been found wanting. Alec.