they would have been out in camp a. month ago. Yes, I should
decidedly like to be Gandy.

MACKESY. He'll go Home after he's married, and send in his
papers-see if he doesn't.

BLAYNE. Why shouldn't he? Hasn't he money? Would any one of
us be here if we weren't paupers?

DONE. Poor old pauper! What has become of the six hundred you
rooked from our table last month?

BLAYNE. It took unto itself wings. I think an enterprising
tradesman got some of it, and a shroff gobbled the rest-or else I
spent it.

CURTISS. Gandy never had dealings with a shroff in his life.

DONE. Virtuous Gandy! If I had three thousand a month, paid
from England, I don't think I'd deal with a shroff either.

MACKESY. (Yawning.) Oh, it's a sweet life! I wonder whether
matrimony would make it sweeter.

CURTISS. Ask Cockley-with his wife dying by inches!

BLAYNE. Go home and get a fool of a girl to come out to-what is
it Thackeray says?-"the splendid palace of an Indian pro-consul."

DOONE. Which reminds me. My quarters leak like a sieve. I had