You're quite right. We're a set of Sybarites.
Doone. Luxurious dogs, wallowing in--
Curtiss. Prickly heat between the shoulders. I'm covered with it. Let's hope
Beora will be cooler.
Blayne. Whew! Are you ordered into camp, too? I thought the Gunners had a clean
sheet.
Curtiss. No, worse luck. Two cases yesterday--one died--and if we have a third,
out we go. Is there any shooting at Beora, Doone?
Doone. The country's under water, except the patch by the Grand Trunk Road. I
was there yesterday, looking at a bund, and came across four poor devils in
their last stage. It's rather bad from here to Kuchara.
Curtiss. Then we're pretty certain to have a heavy go of it. Heigho! I
shouldn't mind changing places with Gaddy for a while. 'Sport with Amaryllis in
the shade of the Town Hall, and all that. Oh, why doesn't somebody come and
marry me, instead of letting me go into cholera-camp?
Mackesy. Ask the Committee.
Curtiss. You ruffian! You'll stand me another peg for that. Blayne, what will
you take? Mackesy is fine on moral grounds. Done, have you any preference?
Doone. Small glass Kummel, please. Excellent carminative, these days. Anthony
told me so.
Mackesy. (Signing voucher for four drinks.
Pages:
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174