save my life. (G. shivers.) I
want to sing.

CAPT. G. Won't it tire you? 'Better not, perhaps.

VOICE. Why? I won't be bothered about. (Begins in a hoarse quaver)

"Minnie bakes oaten cake, Minnie brews ale, All because her Johnnie's
coming home from the sea. (That's parade, Pip.) And she grows red as a
rose, who was so pale; And 'Are you sure the church--clock goes?' says
she."

(Pettishly.) I knew I couldn't take the last note. How do the bass
chords run? (Puts out her hands and begins playing piano on the sheet.)

CAPT. G. (Catching up hands.) Ahh! Don't do that, Pussy, if you love me.

VOICE. Love you? Of course I do. Who else should it be? (A pause.)

VOICE. (Very clearly.) Pip, I'm going now. Something's choking me
cruelly. (Indistinctly.) Into the dark--without you, my heart--But it's
a lie, dear--we mustn't believe it.--Forever and ever, living or dead.
Don't let me go, my husband--hold me tight.--They can't--whatever
happens. (A cough.) Pip--my Pip! Not for always--and--so--soon! (Voice
ceases.)

Pause of ten minutes. G. buries his face in the side of the bed while
AYAH bends over bed from opposite side and feels MRS. G.'s breast and
forehead.

CAPT. G. (Rising.) Doctor Sahib ko salaam do.

AYAH. (Still by bedside, with a shriek.) Ail Ail Tuta-phuta! My
Memsahib! Not getting--not have got!--Pusseena agyal (The sweat has
come.) (Fiercely to G.) TUM jao Doctor Sahib ko jaldi! (You go to the
doctor.) Oh, my Memsahib!

DOCTOR. (Entering hastily.) Come away, Gadsby. (Bends over bed.) Eb! The
Dev--What inspired you to stop the punkab? Get out, man--go away--wait
outside! Go! Here, Ayah! (Over his shoulder to G.) Mind I promise
nothing.

The dawn breaks as G. stumbles into the garden.

CAPT. M. (Rehung up at the gate on his way to parade and very soberly.)
Old man, how goes?

CAPT. G. (Dazed.) I don't quite know. Stay a bit. Have a drink or
something. Don't run away. You're just getting amusing. Ha! ha!

CAPT. M. (Aside.) What am I let in for? Gaddy has aged ten years in the
night.

CAPT. G. (Slowly, fingering charger's headstall.) Your curb's too loose.

CAPT. M. So it is. Put it straight, will you? (Aside.) I shall be late
for parade. Poor Gaddy.

CAPT. G. links and unlinks curb-chain aimlessly, and finally stands
staring toward the veranda. The day brightens.

DOCTOR. (Knocked out of professional gravity, tramping across
flower-beds and shaking G's hands.) It'--it's--it's!--Gadsby, there's