M. Once in a Blue Moon do we gallop in column of troop,
and then only to save time. Aren't three lengths enough for you?
CAPT. G. Yes-quite enough. They just allow for the full
development of the smash. I'm talking like a cur, I know: but I tell
you that, for the past three months, I've felt every hoof of the
squadron in the small of my back every time that I've led.
CAPT. M. But, Gaddy, this is awful!
CAPT. G. Isn't it lovely? Isn't it royal? A Captain of the Pink
Hussars watering up his charger before parade like the blasted
boozing Colonel of a Black Regiment!
CAPT. M. You never did!
CAPT. G. Once Only. He squelched like a mussuck, and the
Troop-Sergeant-Major cocked his eye at me. You know old Haffy's
eye. I was afraid to do it again.
CAPT. M. I should think so. That was the best way to rupture old
Van Loo's tummy, and make him crumple you up. You knew that.
CAPT. G. I didn't care. It took the edge off him.
CAPT. M. "Took the edge off him"? Gaddy, you-you-you
mustn't, you know! Think of the men.
CAPT. G. That's another thing I am afraid of. D'you s'pose they
know?
CAPT. M. Let's hope not; but they're deadly quick to spot
skirm-little things of that kind.
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