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 me. MRS. G. (_Very softly._) My boy of boys! Shall I tell _you_ something? CAPT. G. Yes, if it's not dreadful--about other men. MRS. G. It's about my own bad little self. CAPT. G. Then it must be good. Go on, dear. MRS. G. (_Slowly._) I don't know why I'm telling you, Pip; but if ever you marry again--(_Interlude._) Take your hand from my mouth or I'll _bite!_ In the future, then remember--I don't know quite how to put it! CAPT. G. (_Snorting indignantly._) Don't try. 'Marry again,' indeed! MRS. G. I must. Listen, my husband. Never, never, _never_ tell your wife anything that you do not wish her to remember and think over all her life. Because a woman--yes, I _am_ a woman--_can't_ forget. CAPT. G. By Jove, how do _you_ know that? MRS. G. (_Confusedly._) I don't. I'm only guessing. I am--I was--a silly little girl; but I feel that I know so much, oh, so very much more than you, dearest. To begin with, I'm your wife. CAPT. G. So I have been led to believe. MRS. G. And I shall want to know every one of your secrets--to share everything you know with you. (_Stares round desperately._) CAPT. G. So you shall, dear, so you shall--but don't look like that.