) Mind I promise nothing.
The dawn breaks as G. stumbles into the garden.
Capt. M. (Rehung up at the gate on his way to parade and very soberly.) Old
man, how goes?
Capt. G. (Dazed.) I don't quite know. Stay a bit. Have a drink or something.
Don't run away. You're just getting amusing. Ha! ha!
Capt. M. (Aside.) What am I let in for? Gaddy has aged ten years in the night.
Capt. G. (Slowly, fingering charger's headstall.) Your curb's too loose.
Capt. M. So it is. Put it straight, will you? (Aside.) I shall be late for
parade. Poor Gaddy.
Capt. G. links and unlinks curb-chain aimlessly, and finally stands staring
toward the veranda. The day brightens.
DOCTOR. (Knocked out of professional gravity, tramping across flower-beds and
shaking G's hands.) It'-it's-it's !--Gadsby, there's a fair chance--a dashed
fair chance. The flicker, y'know. The sweat, y'know I saw how it would be. The
punkah, y'know. Deuced clever woman that Ayah of yours. Stopped the punkah just
at the right time. A dashed good chance! No--you don't go in. We'll pull her
through yet I promise on my reputation--under Providence. Send a man with this
note to Bingle. Two heads better than one. 'Specially the Ayah! We'll pull her
round.
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