Miss T. (Calmly.) You needn't. It isn't for us. That's Captain Gadsby. He is
going for a ride with Mamma. He generally comes five days out of the seven.
AGONIZED VOICE. (Prom an inner apartment.) Minnie, run out and give Captain
Gadsby some tea, and tell him I shall be ready in ten minutes; and, O Minnie,
come to me an instant, there's a dear girl!
Miss T. Oh, bother! (Aloud.) Very well, Mamma.
Exit, and reappears, after five minutes, flushed, and rubbing her fingers.
Miss D. You look pink. What has happened?
Miss T. (In a stage whisper.) A twenty-four-inch waist, and she won't let it
out. Where are my bangles? (Rummages on the toilet-table, and dabs at her hair
with a brush in the interval.)
Miss D. Who is this Captain Gadsby? I don't think I've met him.
Miss T. You must have. He belongs to the Harrar set. I've danced with him, but
I've never talked to him. He's a big yellow man, just like a newly-hatched
chicken, with an enormous moustache. He walks like this (imitates Cavalry
swagger), and he goes "Ha-Hmmm!" deep down in his throat when he can't think of
anything to say. Mamma likes him. I don"t.
Miss D. (Abstractedly.) Does he wax that moustache?
Miss T. (Busy with Powder-puff.) Yes, I think so.
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