Wouldn't that do?
CAPT. G. It would be awf'ly nice, dear, but it would be giving you
trouble for nothing. I can't work that way. I go by rule of thumb. I
know the present scale of weights, and the other one--the one that I'm
trying to work to--will shift and vary so much that I couldn't be
certain, even if I wrote it down.
MRS. G. I'm _so_ sorry. I thought I might help. Is there anything else
that I could be of use in?
CAPT. G. (_Looking round the room._) I can't think of anything. You're
_always_ helping me, you know.
MRS. G. Am I? How?
CAPT. G. You are you of course, and as long as you're near me--I can't
explain exactly, but it's in the air.
MRS. G. And that's why you wanted to send me away?
CAPT. G. That's only when I'm trying to do work--grubby work like this.
MRS. G. Mafflin's better, then, isn't he?
CAPT. G. (_Rashly._) Of course he is. Jack and I have been thinking
along the same groove for two or three years about this equipment.
It's our hobby, and it may really be useful some day.
MRS. G. (_After a pause._) And that's all that you have away from me?
CAPT.
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