SHE. Sure proof that I have not been going out with any one. Yes, they are an untrained crew. Where do we go? HE. As usual--to the world's end. No, Jakko. SHE. Have your pony led after you, then. It's a long round. HE. And for the last time, thank Heaven! SHE. Do you mean that still? I didn't dare to write to you about it... all these months. HE. Mean it! I've been shaping my affairs to that end since Autumn. What makes you speak as though it had occurred to you for the first time? SHE. I! Oh! I don't know. I've had long enough to think, too. HE. And you've changed your mind? SHE. No. You ought to know that I am a miracle of constancy. What are your--arrangements? HE. Ours, Sweetheart, please. SHE. Ours, be it then. My poor boy, how the prickly heat has marked your forehead! Have you ever tried sulphate of copper in water? HE. It'll go away in a day or two up here. The arrangements are simple enough. Tonga in the early morning--reach Kalka at twelve--Umballa at seven--down, straight by night train, to Bombay, and then the steamer of the 21st for Rome. That's my idea. The Continent and Sweden--a ten-week honeymoon. SHE. Ssh! Don't talk of it in that way. It makes me afraid. Guy, how long have we two been insane? HE. Seven months and fourteen days; I forget the odd hours exactly, but I'll think. SHE. I only wanted to see if you remembered. Who are those two on the Blessington Road? HE. Eabrey and the Penner woman. What do they matter to us? Tell me everything that you've been doing and saying and thinking. SHE. Doing little, saying less, and thinking a great deal. I've hardly been out at all. Ha. That was wrong of you. You haven't been moping? SHE. Not very much. Can you wonder that I'm disinclined for amusement? HE. Frankly, I do. Where was the difficulty? SHE. In this only. The more people I know and the more I'm known here, the wider spread will be the news of the crash when it comes. I don't like that. HE. Nonsense. We shall be out of it. SHE. You think so? HE. I'm sure of it, if there is any power in steam or horse-flesh to carry us away. Ha! ha! SHE. And the fun of the situation comes in--where, my Lancelot? HE. Nowhere, Guinevere. I was only thinking of something. SHE. They say men have a keener sense of humor than women. Now _I_ was thinking of the scandal. HE. Don't think of anything so ugly. We shall be beyond it. SHE. It will be there all the same in the mouths of Simla--telegraphed over India, and talked of at the dinners--and when He goes out they will stare at Him to see how He takes it. And we shall be dead, Guy dear--dead and cast into the outer darkness where there is-- HE. Love at least. Isn't that enough? SHE. I have said so. HE. And you think so still? SHE. What do you think? Ha. What have I _done_? It means equal ruin to me, as the world reckons it--outcasting, the loss of my appointment, the breaking of my life's work. I pay my price.