_Interval, filled by the noise as of one splashing in the bath-room_.
CAPT. G. (_Emerging from dressing-room_.) What time is it?
CAPT. M. (_Aside_.) 'First sign of funk, that. 'Wonder if it's going to spread. (Aloud.) Come along to breakfast.
CAPT. G. I can't eat anything. I don't want any breakfast.
CAPT. M. (_Aside_.) So early! (_Aloud_.) Captain Gadsby, I _order_ you to eat breakfast, and a dashed good breakfast, too. None of your bridal airs and graces with me!
Leads G. _downstairs, and stands over him while he eats two chops_.
CAPT. G. (_Who has looked at his watch thrice in the last five minutes_.) What time is it?
CAPT. M. Time to come for a walk. Light up.
CAPT. G. I haven't smoked for ten days, and I won't _now_. (_Takes cheroot which M. has cut for him, and blows smoke through his nose luxuriously_.) We aren't going down the Mall, are we?
CAPT. M. (_Aside_.) They're all alike in these stages. (_Aloud_.) No, my Vestal. We're going along the quietest road we can find.
CAPT. M. Innocent! No! Come along, and, if you want me for the final obsequies, don't cut my eye out with your stick.
CAPT. G. (_Spinning round_.) I say, isn't She the dearest creature that ever walked? What's the time? What comes after 'wilt thou take this woman'?
CAPT. M, You go for the ring. R'clect it'll be on the top of my right-hand little ringer, and just be careful how you draw it off, because I shall have the Verger's fees somewhere in my glove.
CAPT. G. (_Walking forward hastily_.) D---the Verger! Come along! It's past twelve and I haven't seen Her since yesterday evening. (Spinning round again.) She's an absolute angel, Jack, and She's a dashed deal too good for me. Look here, does She come up the aisle on my arm, or how?
CAPT. M. If I thought that there was the least chance of your remembering anything for two consecutive minutes, I'd tell you. Stop passaging about like that!
CAPT. G. (_Halting in the middle of the road_.) I say, Jack.
CAPT. M. Keep quiet for another ten minutes if you can, you lunatic; and _walk!_
_The two tramp at five miles an hour for fifteen minutes_.
CAPT. G. What's the time? How about that cursed wedding-cake and the slippers? They don't throw 'em about in church, do they?