G. 'Must be--unless we've appropriated all the happiness in the
world.
MRS. G. (_Looking towards Simla._) Poor dears! Just fancy if we have!
CAPT. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show, for it's a great deal
too jolly to lose--eh, wife o' mine?
MRS. G. O Pip! Pip! How much of you is a solemn, married man and how
much a horrid, slangy schoolboy?
CAPT. G. When you tell me how much of you was eighteen last birthday
and how much is as old as the Sphinx and twice as mysterious, perhaps
I'll attend to you. Lend me that banjo. The spirit moveth me to yowl
at the sunset.
MRS. G. Mind! It's not tuned. Ah! How that jars.
CAPT. G. (_Turning pegs._) It's amazingly difficult to keep a banjo
to proper pitch.
MRS. G. It's the same with all musical instruments. What shall it be?
CAPT. G. 'Vanity,' and let the hills hear. (_Sings through the first
and half of the second verse. Turning to_ MRS. G.) Now, chorus! Sing,
Pussy!
BOTH TOGETHER. (_Con brio, to the horror of the monkeys who are
settling for the night._)--
'Vanity, all is Vanity,' said Wisdom, scorning me--
I clasped my true Love's tender hand and answered
frank and free--ee:--
'If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wi--ise?
(_Crescendo.
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