I wish Mamma would come.
Capt. G. (Aside.) It was a nursery-tea and she's ashamed of it. By Jove! She
doesn't look half bad when she colors up like that. (Aloud, helping himself
from the dish.) Have you seen those new chocolates at Peliti's?
Miss T. No, I made these myself. What are they like?
Capt. G. These! De-licious. (Aside.) And that's a fact.
Miss T. (Aside.) Oh, bother! he'll think I'm fishing for compliments. (Aloud.)
No, Peliti's of course.
Capt. G. (Enthusiastically.) Not to compare with these. How d'you make them? I
can't get my khansamah to understand the simplest thing beyond mutton and fowl.
Miss T. Yes? I'm not a khansamah, you know. Perhaps you frighten him. You
should never frighten a servant. He loses his head. It's very bad policy.
Capt. G. He's so awf'ly stupid.
Miss T. (Folding her hands in her lap.) You should call him quietly and say: 'O
khansamah jee!'
Capt. G. (Getting interested.) Yes? (Aside.) Fancy that little featherweight
saying, 'O khansamah jee' to my bloodthirsty Mir Khan!
Miss T Then you should explain the dinner, dish by dish.
Capt. G. But I can't speak the vernacular.
Miss T. (Patronizingly.) You should pass the Higher Standard and try.
Capt. G.
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