45--which will be
packed with husbands. I shall breakfast in town.
LADY TORMINSTER. Why?
SIR GEOFFREY. Well, one must breakfast somewhere. It's a convention.
LADY TORMINSTER. Sir Geoffrey, I want you to tell me what this means.
SIR GEOFFREY. Give your decision, said the judge to the arbitrator, but
never your reasons. I go, because I go. Besides, has one reasons? Why do
people die, or get married, or buy umbrellas? Because of typhoid, love, or
the rain? Not at all. Isn't that so?
LADY TORMINSTER. I wish you'd be serious.
SIR GEOFFREY. I'm fearfully serious. When Jack shot that tiger he had to
go so near the brute that he held his life in his hands. Do you know what
was my chief impression as I lay there, with the ugly cat's paw upon my
chest, beginning to rip me?
LADY TORMINSTER. [_Shuddering._] Horrible! What?
SIR GEOFFREY. I resented his having eaten something that smelt like
onions.
LADY TORMINSTER. [_Smiling._] A tiger!
SIR GEOFFREY. Onions may have been his undoing. That's the beggar's skin
on the floor. But you should have seen me rub Jack's nose!
LADY TORMINSTER. [_Warningly._] Sir Geoffrey, there's very little
cigarette left--
SIR GEOFFREY. There are lots more in the box--and dawn is a long way off.
Hang it, Lady Torminster, don't be in a hurry! Do you hear the sea out
there? It's breathing as regularly as old Jack. And don't you think this
is fine? Here we are, we two, meeting just as we shall meet on the other
side of the Never-Never Land.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68