Let's see. Three fifties and a seventy--two twenty--three
twenty--say four hundred and twenty. That'll give him a month clear
at the Hills. Many thanks, you men. I'll send round the _chaprassi_
tomorrow.
CURTISS. You must engineer his taking the stuff, and of course you
mustn't--
ANTHONY. Of course. It would never do. He'd weep with gratitude over
his evening drink.
BLAYNE. That's just what he would do, damn him. Oh! I say, Anthony,
you pretend to know everything. Have you heard about Gaddy?
ANTHONY. No. Divorce Court at last?
BLAYNE. Worse. He's engaged!
ANTHONY. How much? He _can't_ be!
BLAYNE. He _is_. He's going to be married in a few weeks. Markyn told
me at the Judge's this evening. It's _pukka_.
ANTHONY. You don't say so? Holy Moses! There'll be a shine in the tents
of Kedar.
CURTISS. 'Regiment cut up rough, think you?
ANTHONY. 'Don't know anything about the Regiment.
MACKESY. It is bigamy, then?
ANTHONY. Maybe. Do you mean to say that you men have forgotten, or is
there more charity in the world than I thought?
DOONE. You don't look pretty when you are trying to keep a secret.
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