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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

I thought we'd settled all that at Shaifazehat.
SHE (dreamily). At Shaifazehat? Does the Station go on still? That was ages
and ages ago. It must be crumbling to pieces. All except the Amirtollah kutcha
road. I don't believe that could crumble till the Day of Judgment.
Ha. You think so? What is the mood now?
SHE. I can't tell. How cold it is! Let us get on quickly.
Ha. Better walk a little. Stop your jhampanis and get out. What's the matter
with you this evening, dear?
SHE. Nothing. You must grow accustomed to my ways. If I'm boring you I can go
home. Here's Captain Congleton coming; I dare say he'll be willing to escort
me.
Ha. Goose! Between us, too! Damn Captain Congleton. There!
SHE. Chivalrous Knight! Is it your habit to swear much in talking? It jars a
little, and you might swear at me.
HE. My angel! I didn't know what I was saying; and you changed so quickly that
I couldn't follow. I'll apologize in dust and ashes.
SHE. There'll be enough of those later on. Good night, Captain Congleton.
Going to the singing-quadrilles already? What dances am I giving you next
week? No! You must have written them down wrong. Five and Seven, I said. If
you've made a mistake, I certainly don't intend to suffer for it.


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