G. Once only. He squelched like a _mussuck_, and the
Troop-Sergeant-Major cocked his eye at me. You know old Haffy's eye. I
was afraid to do it again.
M. I should think so. That was the best way to rupture old Van Loo's
tummy, and make him crumple you up. You _knew_ that.
G. I didn't care. It took the edge off him.
M. 'Took the edge off him'? Gaddy, you--you--you _mustn't_, you know!
Think of the men.
G. That's another thing I am afraid of. D'you s'pose they know?
M. Let's hope not; but they're deadly quick to spot skrim--little things
of that kind. See here, old man, send the Wife Home for the hot weather
and come to Kashmir with me. We'll start a boat on the Dal or cross the
Rhotang--shoot ibex or loaf--which you please. Only _come!_ You're a
bit off your oats and you're talking nonsense. Look at the
Colonel--swag-bellied rascal that he is. He has a wife and no end of a
bow-window of his own. Can any one of us ride round him--chalk-stones
and all? I can't, and I think I can shove a crock along a bit.
G. Some men are different. I haven't the nerve. Lord help me, I haven't
the nerve! I've taken up a hole and a half to get my knees well under
the wallets. I can't help it. I'm so afraid of anything happening to me.
On my soul, I ought to be broke in front of the squadron, for cowardice.