FullReads

DOCTOR. (Bending over bed.) Now, Mrs. Gadsby! We shall be all right to-morrow. You must take it, or I shan’t let Phil see you. It isn’t nasty, is it?

VOICE. Medicines! Always more medicines! Can’t you leave me alone?

CAPT. G. Oh, leave her in peace, Doc!

DOCTOR. (Stepping back,–aside.) May I be forgiven if I’ve done wrong. (Aloud.) In a few minutes she ought to be sensible; but I daren’t tell you to look for anything. It’s only–

CAPT. G. What? Go on, man.

DOCTOR. (In a whisper.) Forcing the last rally.

CAPT. G. Then leave us alone.

DOCTOR. Don’t mind what she says at first, if you can. They–they–they turn against those they love most sometimes in this.–It’s hard, but–

CAPT. G. Am I her husband or are you? Leave us alone for what time we have together.

VOICE. (Confidentially.) And we were engaged quite suddenly, Emma. I assure you that I never thought of it for a moment; but, oh, my little Me!–I don’t know what I should have done if he hadn’t proposed.

CAPT. G. She thinks of that Deercourt girl before she thinks of me. (Aloud.) Minnie!

VOICE. Not from the shops, Mummy dear. You can get the real leaves from Kaintu, and (laughing weakly) never mind about the blossoms–Dead white silk is only fit for widows, and I won’t wear it. It’s as bad as a winding sheet. (A long pause.)

CAPT. G. I never asked a favour yet. If there is anybody to listen to me, let her know me–even if I die too!

VOICE. (Very faintly.) Pip, Pip dear.

CAPT. G. I’m here, darling.

VOICE. What has happened? They’ve been bothering me so with medicines and things, and they wouldn’t let you come and see me. I was never ill before. Am I ill now?

CAPT. G. You–you aren’t quite well.

VOICE. How funny! Have I been ill long?

CAPT. G. Some days; but you’ll be all right in a little time.

VOICE. Do you think so, Pip? I don’t feel well and–Oh! what have they done to my hair?

CAPT. G. I d-d-don’t know.

VOICE. They’ve cut it off. What a shame!

CAPT. G. It must have been to make your head cooler.

VOICE. ‘Just like a boy’s wig. Don’t I look horrid?

CAPT. G. Never looked prettier in your life, dear. (Aside.) How am I to ask her to say good-bye?

VOICE. I don’t feel pretty. I feel very ill. My heart won’t work. It’s nearly dead inside me, and there’s a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems the same distance–you and the almirah and the table–inside my eyes or miles away. What does it mean, Pip?

CAPT. G. You’re a little feverish, Sweetheart–very feverish. (Breaking down.) My love! my love! How can I let you go?

VOICE. I thought so. Why didn’t you tell me that at first?

CAPT. G. What?

VOICE. That I am going to–die.

CAPT. G. But you aren’t! You shan’t.

AYAH to punkah-coolie. (Stepping into veranda after a glance at the bed.) Punkah chor do! (Stop pulling the punkah.)

VOICE. It’s hard, Pip. So very, very hard after one year–just one year. (Wailing.) And I’m only twenty. Most girls aren’t even married at twenty. Can’t they do anything to help me? I don’t want to die.

CAPT. G. Hush, dear. You won’t.

VOICE. What’s the use of talking? Help me! You’ve never failed me yet. Oh, Phil, help me to keep alive. (Feverishly.) I don’t believe you wish me to live. You weren’t a bit sorry when that horrid Baby thing died. I wish I’d killed it!

CAPT. G. (Drawing his hand across his forehead.) It’s more than a man’s meant to bear–it’s not right. (Aloud.) Minnie, love, I’d die for you if it would help.

VOICE. No more death. There’s enough already. Pip, don’t you die too.

CAPT. G. I wish I dared.

VOICE. It says: ‘Till Death do us part.’ Nothing after that–and so it would be no use. It stops at the dying. Why does it stop there? Only such a very short life, too. Pip, I’m sorry we married.