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Updated: May 28, 2025
It's hard, but CAPT. G. Am I her husband or are you? Leave us alone for what time we have together. I assure you that I never thought of it for a moment; but, oh, my little Me! I don't know what I should have done if he hadn't proposed. CAPT. G. She thinks of that Deercourt girl before she thinks of me. VOICE. Not from the shops, Mummy dear. It's as bad as a winding sheet.
Proceeds to read GILDED YOUTH a lecture on discretion and deportment, which crumbles latter like a Chinese Lantern. Departs fuming. SCENE. Exterior of New Simla Library on a foggy evening. MISS THREEGAN and MISS DEERCOURT meet among the 'rickshaws. MISS T. is carrying a bundle of books under her left arm. You bad girl! And you never told me. MISS D. Bless you, dear!
She goes on talking about Consequences 'almost inevitable Consequences' with a capital C for half a page. How abominable! Doesn't it show a sort of motherly interest in us? MRS. G. It's impertinent it's simply horrid. What right has this woman to write in this way to you? She oughtn't to. CAPT. G. When you write to the Deercourt girl, I notice that you generally fill three or four sheets.
I'd sooner you didn't, though. I don't ask to look at your letters to the Deercourt girl. MRS. G. You'd better not, Sir! If you say no, I shall cry. CAPT. G. You've never cried in my knowledge of you, and I don't believe you could. MRS. G. I feel very like it to-day, Pip. Don't be hard on me. How funny! How funny! MRS. G. What a strange letter!
MISS EMMA DEERCOURT, bosom-friend, who has come to spend the day, sitting on the bed, manipulating the bodice of a ballroom frock and a bunch of artificial lilies of the valley. Time, 5.30 P. M. on a hot May afternoon. MISS DEERCOURT. And he said: 'I shall never forget this dance, and, of course, I said: 'Oh! how can you be so silly! Do you think he meant anything, dear?
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