CAPT. G. Eb! What-at?
CAPT. M. Don't you know? The men have called Mrs. Gadsby the Pride of the Pink Hussars ever since she came to us.
CAPT. G. 'Tisn't her fault. Don't think that. It's all mine.
CAPT. M. What does she say?
CAPT. G. I haven't exactly put it before her. She's the best little woman in the world, Jack, and all that—but she wouldn't counsel a man to stick to his calling if it came between him and her. At least, I think—
CAPT. M. Never mind. Don't tell her what you told me. Go on the Peerage and Landed-Gentry tack.
CAPT. G. She'd see through it. She's five times cleverer than I am.
CAPT. M. (Aside.) Then she'll accept the sacrifice and think a little bit worse of him for the rest of her days.
CAPT. G. (Absently.) I say, do you despise me?
CAPT. M. 'Queer way of putting it. Have you ever been asked that question? Think a minute. What answer used you to give?