MRS. H. I wonder if you mean that! Oh, what is the good of squabbling and pretending to misunderstand when you are only up for so short a time? Pip, don't be a stupid!
Follows a pause, during which he crosses his left leg over his right and continues his dinner.
CAPT. G. (In answer to the thunderstorm in her eyes.) Corns—my worst.
MRS. H. Upon my word, you are the very rudest man in the world! I'll never do it again.
CAPT. G. (Aside.) No, I don't think you will; but I wonder what you will do before it's all over. (To Khitmatgar.) Thorah ur Simpkin do.
MRS. H. Well! Haven't you the grace to apologize, bad man?
CAPT. G. (Aside.) I mustn't let it drift back now. Trust a woman for being as blind as a bat when she won't see.
MRS. H. I'm waiting; or would you like me to dictate a form of apology?
CAPT. G. (Desperately.) By all means dictate.
MRS. H. (Lightly.) Very well. Rehearse your several Christian names after me and go on: “Profess my sincere repentance.”