Capt. G. Still luckier man! Well?
Mrs. G. And I thought I cared for him—and I didn't—and then you came—and I cared for you very, very much indeed. That's all. (Face hidden.) You aren't angry, are you?
Capt. G. Angry? Not in the least. (Aside.) Good Lord, what have I done to deserve this angel?
Mrs. G. (Aside.) And he never asked for the name! How funny men are! But perhaps it's as well.
Capt. G. That man will go to heaven because you once thought you cared for him. 'Wonder if you'll ever drag me up there?
Mrs. G. (Firmly.) 'Sha'n't go if you don't.
Capt. G. Thanks. I say, Pussy, I don't know much about your religious beliefs. You were brought up to believe in a heaven and all that, weren't you?
Mrs. G. Yes. But it was a pincushion heaven, with hymn-books in all the pews.
Capt. G. (Wagging his head with intense conviction.) Never mind. There is a pukka heaven.
Mrs. G. Where do you bring that message from, my prophet?