Where
are the shoes? Get an _ayah._
AYAH. Missie Captain Sahib done gone _band karo_ all the _jutis._
CAPT. M. (_Brandishing scabbarded sword._) Woman, produce those shoes!
Some one lend me a bread-knife. We mustn't crack Gaddy's head more
than it is. (_Slices heel off white satin slipper and puts slipper up
his sleeve._) Where is the Bride? (_To the company at large._) Be
tender with that rice. It's a heathen custom. Give me the big bag.
_Bride slips out quietly into 'rickshaw and departs
towards the sunset._
CAPT. M. (_In the open._) Stole away, by Jove! So much, the worse for
Gaddy! Here he is. Now Gaddy, this'll be livelier than Amdheran! Where's
your horse?
CAPT. G. (_Furiously, seeing that the women are out of earshot._) Where
the ---- is my _Wife?_
CAPT. M. Half-way to Mahasu by this time. You'll have to ride like
Young Lochinvar.
_Horse comes round on his hind legs; refuses to let G. handle him._
CAPT. G. Oh you will, will you? Get round, you brute-you hog-you beast!
Get _round!_
_Wrenches horse's head over, nearly breaking lower jaw; swings himself
into saddle, and sends home both spurs in the midst of a spattering
gale of Best Patna.
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