(Bronzing under the tan and
bringing
down his hand very
quickly.
Kipling - Poems
)
Nearly every day.
Capt. G. By Jove! I didn't know that. Ha-Hmmm (Pulls at his moustache
and is silent for forty seconds.)
Miss T. (Desperately, and wondering what will happen next.) It looks
beautiful. I shouldn't touch it if I were you. (Aside.) It's all Mamma's
fault for not coming before. I will be rude!
Capt. G.
(Bronzing under the tan and
bringing
down his hand very
quickly.
) Eh! Wha-at! Oh, yes! Ha! Ha! (Laughs uneasily.) (Aside.) Well,
of all the dashed cheek! I never had a woman say that to me yet. She
must be a cool hand or else--Ah! that nursery-tea!
