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Time, 10.30 A. M. a glorious autumn day at Simla. Enter delicately CAPTAIN MAFFLIM of GADSBY'S regiment. Looks at sleeper, and shakes his head murmuring 'Poor Gaddy. Performs violent fantasia with hair-brushes on chair-back. CAPT. M. Wake up, my sleeping beauty! 'Uprouse ye, then, my merry merry men! It is our opening day! It is our opening da-ay!
Get out, man go away wait outside! Go! Here, Ayah! The dawn breaks as G. stumbles into the garden. Stay a bit. Have a drink or something. Don't run away. You're just getting amusing. Ha! Ha! Gaddy has aged ten years in the night. CAPT. M. So it is. Put it straight, will you? Poor Gaddy. CAPT. G. links and unlinks curb-chain aimlessly, and finally stands staring towards the veranda.
Had she ever stopped to think out her own morals, let alone anyone else's? Was she any judge of what was old or of who was old? And he determined then and there to show her he was in his prime. Impatiently he strove to remember the names of her friends and ask her about them, to show a keen lively interest in this giddy gaddy life she led.
I think an enterprising tradesman got some of it, and a shroff gobbled the rest or else I spent it. CURTISS. Gaddy never had dealings with a shroff in his life. DOONE. Virtuous Gaddy! If I had three thousand a month, paid from England, I don't think I'd deal with a shroff either. I wonder whether matrimony would make it sweeter. CURTISS. Ask Cockley with his wife dying by inches!
Don't let him flop, though, or he'll lick all the blacking off your boots. M. And my Godson's. I'm ashamed of you, Gaddy. Punch your father in the eye, Jack! Don't you stand it! Hit him again! I'd rather the Wife didn't hear just now. M. You look awf'ly serious. Anything wrong? G. 'Depends on your view entirely. I say, Jack, you won't think more hardly of me than you can help, will you?
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