I'm to be turned out of the room like a
troublesome
child?
Kipling - Poems
Mrs. G. You want me to go?
Capt. G, Yes, dear, for a little while. This tobacco will hang in your
dress, and saddlery doesn't interest you.
Mrs. G. Everything you do interests me, Pip.
Capt. G. Yes, I know, I know, dear. I'll tell you all about it some day
when I've put a head on this thing. In the meantime--
Mrs. G.
I'm to be turned out of the room like a
troublesome
child?
Capt. G. No-o. I don't mean that exactly. But, you see, I shall be
tramping up and down, shifting these things to and fro, and I shall be
in your way. Don't you think so?
Mrs. G. Can't I lift them about? Let me try. (Reaches forward to
trooper's saddle.)
Capt. G. Good gracious, child, don't touch it. You'll hurt yourself.
