Rudyard Kipling: 440+ Short Stories in One Edition (Illustrated). Редьярд Джозеф Киплинг

G. I love you.

      MRS. G. Re-ally! For how long?

      CAPT. G. For ever and ever.

      MRS. G. That's a long time.

      CAPT. G. 'Think so? It's the shortest I can do with.

      MRS. G. You're getting quite clever.

      CAPT. G. I'm talking to you.

      MRS. G. Prettily turned. Hold up your stupid old head and I'll pay you for it!

      CAPT. G. (Affecting supreme contempt.) Take it yourself if you want it.

      MRS. G. I've a great mind to—and I will! (Takes it and is repaid with interest.)

      CAPT. G. Little Featherweight, it's my opinion that we are a couple of idiots.

      MRS. G. We're the only two sensible people in the world! Ask the eagle. He's coming by.

      CAPT. G. Ah! I dare say he's seen a good many sensible people at Mahasu. They say that those birds live for ever so long.

      MRS. G. How long?

      CAPT. G. A hundred and twenty years.

      MRS. G. A hundred and twenty years! O-oh! And in a hundred and twenty years where will these two sensible people be?

      CAPT. G. What does it matter so long as we are together now?

      MRS. G. (Looking round the horizon.) Yes. Only you and I—I and you—in the whole wide, wide world until the end. (Sees the line of the Snows.) How big and quiet the hills look! D'you think they care for us?

      CAPT. G. 'Can't say I've consulted 'em particularly. I care, and that's enough for me.

      MRS. G. (Drawing nearer to him.) Yes, now—but afterwards. What's that little black blur on the Snows?

      CAPT. G. A snowstorm, forty miles away. You'll see it move, as the wind carries it across the face of that spur, and then it will be all gone.

      MRS. G. And then it will be all gone. (Shivers.)

      CAPT. G. (Anxiously.) 'Not chilled, pet, are you? 'Better let me get your cloak.

      MRS. G. No. Don't leave me, Phil. Stay here. I believe I am afraid. Oh, why are the hills so horrid! Phil, promise me, promise me that you'll always love me.

      CAPT. G. What's the trouble, darling? I can't promise any more than I have; but I'll promise that again and again if you like.

      MRS. G. (Her head on his shoulder.) Say it, then—say it! N-no—don't! The—the—eagles would laugh. (Recovering.) My husband, you've married a little goose.

      CAPT. G. (Very tenderly.) Have I? I am content whatever she is, so long as she is mine.

      MRS. G. (Quickly.) Because she is yours or because she is me mineself?

      CAPT. G. Because she is both. (Piteously.) I'm not clever, dear, and I don't think I can make myself understood properly.

      MRS. G. I understand. Pip, will you tell me something?

      CAPT. G. Anything you like. (Aside.) I wonder what's coming now.

      MRS. G. (Haltingly, her eyes lowered.) You told me once in the old days—centuries and centuries ago—that you had been engaged before. I didn't say anything—then.

      CAPT. G. (Innocently.) Why not?

      MRS. G. (Raising her eyes to his.) Because—because I was afraid of losing you, my heart. But now—tell about it—please.

      CAPT. G. There's nothing to tell. I was awf'ly old then—nearly two and twenty—and she was quite that.

      MRS. G. That means she was older than you. I shouldn't like her to have been younger. Well?

      CAPT. G. Well, I fancied myself in love and raved about a bit, and—oh, yes, by Jove! I made up poetry. Ha! Ha!

      MRS. G. You never wrote any for me! What happened?

      CAPT. G. I came out here, and the whole thing went phut. She wrote to say that there had been a mistake, and then she married.

      MRS. G. Did she care for you much?

      CAPT. G. No. At least she didn't show it as far as I remember.

      MRS. G. As far as you remember! Do you remember her name? (Hears it and bows her head.) Thank you, my husband.

      CAPT. G. Who but you had the right? Now, Little Featherweight, have you ever been mixed up in any dark and dismal tragedy?

      MRS. G. If you call me Mrs. Gadsby, p'raps I'll tell.

      CAPT. G. (Throwing Parade rasp into his voice.) Mrs. Gadsby, confess!

      MRS. G. Good Heavens, Phil! I never knew that you could speak in that terrible voice.

      CAPT. G. You don't know half my accomplishments yet. Wait till we are settled in the Plains, and I'll show you how I bark at my troop. You were going to say, darling?

      MRS. G. I—I don't like to, after that voice. (Tremulously.) Phil, never you dare to speak to me in that tone, whatever I may do!

      CAPT. G. My poor little love! Why, you're shaking all over. I am so sorry. Of course I never meant to upset you. Don't tell me anything. I'm a brute.

      MRS. G. No, you aren't, and I will tell—There was a man.

      CAPT. G. (Lightly.) Was there? Lucky man!

      MRS. G. (In a whisper.) And I thought I cared for him.

      CAPT. G. Still luckier man! Well?

      MRS. G. And I thought I cared for him—and I didn't—and then you came—and I cared for you very, very much indeed. That's all. (Face hidden.) You aren't angry, are you?

      CAPT. G. Angry? Not in the least. (Aside.) Good Lord, what have I done to deserve this angel?

      MRS. G. (Aside.) And he never asked for the name! How funny men are! But perhaps it's as well.

      CAPT. G. That man will go to heaven because you once thought you cared for him. 'Wonder if you'll ever drag me up there?

      MRS. G. (Firmly.) 'Shan't go if you don't.

      CAPT. G. Thanks. I say, Pussy, I don't know much about your religious beliefs. You were brought up to believe in a heaven and all that, weren't you?

      MRS. G. Yes. But it was a pincushion heaven, with hymn-books in all the pews.

      CAPT. G. (Wagging his head with intense conviction.) Never mind. There is a pukka heaven.

      MRS. G. Where do you bring that message from, my prophet?

      CAPT. G. Here! Because we care for each other. So it's all right.

      MRS. G. (As a troop of langurs crash through the branches.) So it's all right. But Darwin says that we came from those!

      CAPT. G. (Placidly.) Ah! Darwin was never in love with an angel. That settles it. Sstt, you brutes! Monkeys, indeed! You shouldn't read those books.

      MRS. G. (Folding her hands.) If it pleases my Lord the King to issue proclamation.

      CAPT. G. Don't, dear one. There are no orders between us. Only I'd rather you didn't. They lead to nothing, and bother people's heads.

      MRS. G. Like your first engagement.

      CAPT.G. (With an immense calm.) That was a necessary evil and led to you. Are you nothing?

      MRS. G. Not so very much, am I?

      CAPT. G. All this world and the next to