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.