Military Woman (mimicking). “A man will fall. That’s all.” Won’t you have the goodness to tell me whether you have ever seen a man fall? No? Well, I did. Not one, but three. Two acrobats, one rope-walker and three aeronauts.
Tourist. That makes six.
Military Woman (mimicking). “That makes six.” Say, you are a mathematical prodigy. And did you ever see a tiger tear a woman to pieces in a zoo, right before your eyes? Eh? What? Yes, exactly. Now, I did— Please! Please!
(The tourist steps aside, shrugging his shoulders with an air of injury, and the tall woman triumphantly takes possession of the stone she has won by her prowess. She sits down, spreading out around her her bag, handkerchiefs, peppermints, and medicine bottle, takes off her gloves and wipes her field-glass, glancing pleasantly on all around. Finally she turns to the lady who is waiting for her husband in the café.)
Military Woman (amiably). You will tire yourself out, dear. Why don’t you sit down?
Lady. Oh, my, don’t talk about it. My legs are as stiff as that rock there.
Military Woman. Men are so rude nowadays. They will never give their place to a woman. Have you brought peppermints with you?
Lady (frightened). No. Why? Is it necessary?
Military Woman. When you keep looking up a long time you are bound to get sick. Sure thing. Have you spirits of ammonia? No? Good gracious, how thoughtless! How will they bring you back to consciousness when he falls? You haven’t any smelling salts either, I dare say. Of course not. Have you anybody to take care of you, seeing that you are so helpless yourself?
Lady (frightened). I will tell my husband. He is in the café.