CAPT. G. What on earth do I want to lie down for?
CAPT. M. Give me a light from your cheroot and see.
CAPT. G. (_Watching cheroot-butt quiver like a tuning-fork_.) Sweet
state I'm in!
CAPT. M. You are. I'll get you a peg and you'll go to sleep.
_They return and M. compounds a four-finger peg_.
CAPT. G. O _bus! bus!_ It'll make me as drunk as an owl.
CAPT. M. Curious thing, 'twon't have the slightest effect on you. Drink
it off, chuck yourself down there, and go to bye-bye.
CAPT. G. It's absurd. I shan't sleep. I _know_ I shan't!
_Falls into heavy doze at end of seven minutes_. CAPT. M.
_watches him tenderly_.
CAPT. M. Poor old Gaddy! I've seen a few turned off before, but never
one who went to the gallows in this condition. 'Can't tell how it
affects 'em, though. It's the thoroughbreds that sweat when they're
backed into double-harness.-And that's the man who went through the
guns at Amdheran like a devil possessed of devils. (_Leans over_ G.)
But this is worse than the guns, old pal--worse than the guns, isn't
it? (G. t_urns in his sleep, and M. touches him clumsily on the
forehead_.
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