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.”
Capt. G. “Sincere repentance.”
Mrs. H. “For having behaved”—
Capt. G. (Aside.) At last! I wish to Goodness she'd look away. “For having behaved”—as I have behaved, and declare that I am thoroughly and heartily sick of the whole business, and take this opportunity of making clear my intention of ending it, now, henceforward, and forever. (Aside.) If any one had told me I should be such a blackguard!—
Mrs. H. (Shaking a spoonful of potato chips into her plate.) That's not a pretty joke.
Capt. G. No. It's a reality. (Aside.) I wonder if smashes of this kind are always so raw.
Mrs. H. Really, Pip, you're getting more absurd every day.
Capt. G. I don't think you quite understand me. Shall I repeat it?