) This is Hades! Can I wipe my face
now?
CAPT. M. My responsibility has ended. Better ask Misses
GADSAY.
CAPT. G. winces as though shot and procession is Mendelssohned
out of Church to house, where usual tortures take place over the
wedding-cake.
CAPT. M. (At table.) Up with you, Gaddy. They expect a speech.
CAPT. G. (After three minutes' agony.) Ha-hmmm. (Thunders Of
applause.)
CAPT. M. Doocid good, for a first attempt. Now go and change
your kit while Mamma is weeping over_"the Missus." (CAPT. G.
disappears. CAPT. M. starts up tearing his hair.) It's not half legal.
Where are the shoes? Get an ayah.
AVAH. Missie Captain Sahib done gone band karo all the jutis.
CAPT. M. (Brandishing scab larded sword.) Woman, produce
those shoes Some one lend me a bread-knife. We mustn't crack
Gaddy's head more than it is. (Slices heel off white satin slipper
and puts slipper up his sleeve.)
Where is the Bride? (To the company at large.) Be tender with
that rice. It's a heathen custom. Give me the big bag.
* * * * * *
Bride slips out quietly into 'rickshaw and departs toward the
sun-set.
CAPT. M. (In the open.) Stole away, by Jove! So much the
worse for Gaddy! Here he is.
Pages:
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75