I was never ill before. Am I
ill now?
Capt. G. You--you aren't quite well.
VOICE. How funny! Have I been ill long?
Capt. G. Some days; but you'll be all right in a little time.
VOICE. Do you think so, Pip? I don't feel well and--Oh! what have they done to
my hair?
Capt. G. I d-d-on't know.
VOICE. They've cut it off. What a shame!
Capt. G. It must have been to make your head cooler.
VOICE. Just like a boy's wig. Don't I look horrid?
Capt. G. Never looked prettier in your life, dear. (Aside.) How am I to ask her
to say goodbye?
VOICE. I don't feel pretty. I feel very ill. My heart won't work. It's nearly
dead inside me, and there's a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems the
same distance--you and the almirah and the table inside my eyes or miles away.
What does it mean, Pip?
Capt. G. You're a little feverish, Sweetheart--very feverish. (Breaking down.)
My love! my love! How can I let you go?
VOICE. I thought so. Why didn't you tell me that at first?
Capt. G. What?
VOICE. That I am going to--die.
Capt. G. But you aren't! You sha'n't.
Ayah to punkah-coolie. (Stepping into veranda after a glance at the bed. ).
Punkah chor do! (Stop pulling the punkah.)
VOICE. It's hard, Pip.
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