G. I'll never do it again.
CAPT. G. You'd better not. And now get those poor pale cheeks
pink again, or I shall be angry. Don't try to lift the urn. You'll
upset it. Wait. (Comes round to head of table and lifts urn.)
Mas. G. (Quickly.) Khitmatgar, howarchikhana see kettly lao.
Butler, get a kettle from the cook-house. (Drawing down G.'s face
to her own.) Pip dear, I remember.
CAPT. G. What?
Mas. G. That last terrible night.
CAPT'. G. Then just you forget all about it.
Mas. G. (Softly, her eyes filling.) Never. It has brought us very
close together, my husband. There! (Interlude.) I'm going to give
Junda a saree.
CAPT. G. I gave her fifty dibs.
Mas. G. So she told me. It was a 'normous reward. Was I worth
it? (Several interludes.) Don't! Here's the khitmatgar.-Two lumps
or one Sir?
THE SWELLING OF JORDAN
If thou hast run with the footmen and they have wearied thee, then
how canst thou contend with horses? And if in the land of peace
wherein thou trustedst they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in
the swelling of Jordan?
SCENE.-The GADSBYS' bungalow in the Plains, on a January
morning. Mas. G. arguing with bearer in back veranda.
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