Don't think of
anything
so ugly.
Kipling - Poems
SHE. You think so?
HE. I'm sure of it, if there is any power in steam or horse-flesh to
carry us away. Ha! ha!
SHE. And the fun of the situation comes in--where, my Lancelot?
HE. Nowhere, Guinevere. I was only thinking of something.
SHE. They say men have a keener sense of humor than women. Now _I_ was
thinking of the scandal.
HE.
Don't think of anything so ugly. We shall be beyond it.
SHE. It will be there all the same in the mouths of Simla--telegraphed
over India, and talked of at the dinners--and when He goes out they
will stare at Him to see how He takes it. And we shall be dead, Guy
dear--dead and cast into the outer darkness where there is--
HE. Love at least. Isn't that enough?
SHE. I have said so.
HE. And you think so still?
SHE. What do you think?
Ha. What have I _done_? It means equal ruin to me, as the world reckons
it--outcasting, the loss of my appointment, the breaking of my life's
work.
