I hop and I bump.
You know I do!
CAPT. G. (Aside.) That's true, but little girls shouldn't understand
these things. (Aloud.) No, on my word, I don't. You dance
beautifully.
Miss T. Then why do you always stand out after half a dozen
turns? I thought officers in the Army didn't tell fibs.
CAPT. G. It wasn't a fib, believe me. I really do want the pleasure
of a dance with you.
Miss T. (Wickedly.) Why? Won't Mamma dance with you any
more?
CAPT. G. (More earnestly than the necessity demands.) I wasn't
thinking of your Mother. (Aside.) You little vixen!
Miss T. (Still looking out of the window.) Eh? Oh, I beg your par
don. I was thinking of something else.
CAPT. G. (Aside.) Well! I wonder what she'll say next. I've never
known a woman treat me like this before. I might be--Dash it, I
might be an Infantry subaltern! (Aloud.) Oh, please don't trouble.
I'm not worth thinking about. Isn't your Mother ready yet?
Miss T. I should think so; but promise me, Captain Gadsby, you
won't take poor dear Mamma twice round Jakko any more. It tires
her so.
CAPT. G. She says that no exercise tires her.
Miss T. Yes, but she suffers afterward. You don't know what
rheumatism is, and you oughtn't to keep her out so late, when it
gets chill in the evenings.
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