I'd like it.
CAPT. G. I'm afraid you wouldn't, Pussy--Don't you think that jam will
burn, or whatever it is that jam does when it's not looked after by
a clever little housekeeper?
MRS. G. I thought you said Hyder could attend to it. I left him in the
veranda, stirring--when I hurt myself so.
CAPT. G. (_His eye returning to the equipment._) Po-oor little
woman!--Three pounds four and seven is three eleven, and that can be
cut down to two eight, with just a _lee_-tle care, without weakening
anything. Farriery is all rot in incompetent hands. What's the use of
a shoe-case when a man's scouting? He can't stick it on with a
lick--like a stamp--the shoe! Skittles!
MRS. G. What's skittles? Pah! What _is_ this leather cleaned with?
CAPT. G. Cream and champagne and-- Look here, dear, do you really want
to talk to me about anything important?
MRS. G. No. I've done my accounts, and I thought I'd like to see what
you're doing.
CAPT. G. Well, love, now you've seen and--Would you mind?--That is
to say--Minnie, I really _am_ busy.
MRS. G. You want me to go?
CAPT. G. Yes, dear, for a little while.
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