FullReads

MRS. G. Can’t I lift them about? Let me try. (Reaches forward to trooper’s saddle.)

CAPT. G. Good gracious, child, don’t touch it. You’ll hurt yourself. (Picking up saddle.) Little girls aren’t expected to handle numdahs. Now, where would you like it put? (Holds saddle above his head.)

MRS. G. (A break in her voice.) Nowhere. Pip, how good you are–and how strong! Oh, what’s that ugly red streak inside your arm?

CAPT. G. (Lowering saddle quickly.) Nothing. It’s a mark of sorts. (Aside.) And Jack’s coming to tiffin with his notions all cut and dried!

MRS. G. I know it’s a mark, but I’ve never seen it before. It runs all up the arm. What is it?

CAPT. G. A cut–if you want to know.

MRS. G. Want to know! Of course I do! I can’t have my husband cut to pieces in this way. How did it come? Was it an accident? Tell me, Pip.

CAPT. G. (Grimly.) No. ‘Twasn’t an accident. I got it–from a man–in Afghanistan.

MRS. G. In action? Oh, Pip, and you never told me!

CAPT. G. I’d forgotten all about it.

MRS. G. Hold up your arm! What a horrid, ugly scar! Are you sure it doesn’t hurt now? How did the man give it you?

CAPT. G. (Desperately looking at his watch.) With a knife. I came down–old Van Loo did, that’s to say–and fell on my leg, so I couldn’t run. And then this man came up and began chopping at me as I sprawled.

MRS. G. Oh, don’t, don’t! That’s enough!–Well, what happened?

CAPT. G. I couldn’t get to my holster, and Mafflin came round the corner and stopped the performance.

MRS. G. How? He’s such a lazy man, I don’t believe he did.

CAPT. G. Don’t you? I don’t think the man had much doubt about it. Jack cut his head off.

MRS. G. Cut–his–head–off! ‘With one blow,’ as they say in the books?

CAPT. G. I’m not sure. I was too interested in myself to know much about it. Anyhow, the head was off, and Jack was punching old Van Loo in the ribs to make him get up. Now you know all about it, dear, and now–

MRS. G. You want me to go, of course. You never told me about this, though I’ve been married to you for ever so long; and you never would have told me if I hadn’t found out; and you never do tell me anything about yourself, or what you do, or what you take an interest in.

CAPT. G. Darling, I’m always with you, aren’t I?

MRS. G. Always in my pocket, you were going to say. I know you are; but you are always thinking away from me.

CAPT. G. (Trying to hide a smile.) Am I? I wasn’t aware of it. I’m awf’ly sorry.

MRS. G. (Piteously.) Oh, don’t make fun of me! Pip, you know what I mean. When you are reading one of those things about Cavalry, by that idiotic Prince–why doesn’t he be a Prince instead of a stable-boy?

CAPT. G. Prince Kraft a stable-boy–Oh, my Aunt! Never mind, dear. You were going to say?

MRS. G. It doesn’t matter; you don’t care for what I say. Only–only you get up and walk about the room, staring in front of you, and then Mafflin comes in to dinner, and after I’m in the drawing-room I can hear you and him talking, and talking, and talking, about things I can’t understand, and–oh, I get so tired and feel so lonely!–I don’t want to complain and be a trouble, Pip; but I do–indeed I do!

CAPT. G. My poor darling! I never thought of that. Why don’t you ask some nice people in to dinner?

MRS. G. Nice people! Where am I to find them? Horrid frumps! And if I did, I shouldn’t be amused. You know I only want you.

CAPT. G. And you have me surely, Sweetheart?

MRS. G. I have not! Pip, why don’t you take me into your life?

CAPT. G. More than I do? That would be difficult, dear.