No More Learning

If the Pinks had stood fast here, they would have been
out in camp a month ago. Yes, I should decidedly like to be Gadsby.

Mackesy. He'll go Home after he's married, and send in his papers--see
if he doesn't.

Blayne. Why shouldn't he? Hasn't he money? Would any one of us be here
if we weren't paupers?

Doone. Poor old pauper! What has become of the six hundred you rooked
from our table last month?

Blayne. It took unto itself wings. I think an enterprising tradesman got
some of it, and a shroff gobbled the rest--or else I spent it.

Curtiss.
Gadsby never had dealings with a shroff in his life.

Doone. Virtuous Gadsby! If I had three thousand a month, paid from
England, I don't think I'd deal with a shroff either.

Mackesy. (Yawning. ) Oh, it's a sweet life! I wonder whether matrimony
would make it sweeter.

Curtiss. Ask Cockley--with his wife dying by inches!

Blayne. Go home and get a fool of a girl to come out to--what is it
Thackeray says? --"the splendid palace of an Indian pro-consul. "

Doone. Which reminds me. My quarters leak like a sieve.