) 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.
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