Part 148 (1/2)

Mrs. H. (Lightly.) Very well. Rehea.r.s.e your several Christian names after me and go on: ”Profess my sincere repentance.”

Capt. G. ”Sincere repentance.”

Mrs. H. ”For having behaved”--

Capt. G. (Aside.) At last! I wish to Goodness she'd look away. ”For having behaved”--as I have behaved, and declare that I am thoroughly and heartily sick of the whole business, and take this opportunity of making clear my intention of ending it, now, henceforward, and forever.

(Aside.) If any one had told me I should be such a blackguard!--

Mrs. H. (Shaking a spoonful of potato chips into her plate.) That's not a pretty joke.

Capt. G. No. It's a reality. (Aside.) I wonder if smashes of this kind are always so raw.

Mrs. H. Really, Pip, you're getting more absurd every day.

Capt. G. I don't think you quite understand me. Shall I repeat it?

Mrs. H. No! For pity's sake don't do that. It's too terrible, even in fur.

Capt. G. I'll let her think it over for a while. But I ought to be horsewhipped.

Mrs. H. I want to know what you meant by what you said just now.

Capt. G. Exactly what I said. No less.

Mrs. H. But what have I done to deserve it? What have I done?

Capt. G. (Aside.) If she only wouldn't look at me. (Aloud and very slowly, his eyes on his plate.) D'you remember that evening in July, before the Rains broke, when you said that the end would have to come sooner or later--and you wondered for which of US it would come first?

Mrs. H. Yes! I was only joking. And you swore that, as long as there was breath in your body, it should never come. And I believed you.

Capt. G. (Fingering menu-card.) Well, it has. That's all.

A long pause, during which Mrs. H. bows her head and rolls the bread-twist into little pellets; G. stares at the oleanders.

Mrs. H. (Throwing back her head and laughing naturally.) They train us women well, don't they, Pip?

Capt. G. (Brutally, touching s.h.i.+rt-stud.) So far as the expression goes.

(Aside.) It isn't in her nature to take things quietly. There'll be an explosion yet.

Mrs. H. (With a shudder.) Thank you. B-but even Red Indians allow people to wriggle when they're being tortured, I believe. (Slips fan from girdle and fans slowly: rim of fan level with chin.)

PARTNER ON LEFT. Very close tonight, isn't it? 'You find it too much for you?

Mrs. H. Oh, no, not in the least. But they really ought to have punkahs, even in your cool Naini Tal, oughtn't they? (Turns, dropping fan and raising eyebrows.)

Capt. G. It's all right. (Aside.) Here comes the storm!

Mrs. H. (Her eyes on the tablecloth: fan ready in right hand.) It was very cleverly managed, Pip, and I congratulate you. You swore--you never contented yourself with merely Saying a thing--you swore that, as far as lay in your power, you'd make my wretched life pleasant for me. And you've denied me the consolation of breaking down. I should have done it--indeed I should. A woman would hardly have thought of this refinement, my kind, considerate friend. (Fan-guard as before.) You have explained things so tenderly and truthfully, too! You haven't spoken or written a word of warning, and you have let me believe in you till the last minute. You haven't condescended to give me your reason yet. No!

A woman could not have managed it half so well. Are there many men like you in the world?