CAPT. G. (_Magisterially._) All people, not like ourselves, are blind idiots. MRS. G. (_Wiping her eyes._) Do you think, then, that there are any people as happy as we are? CAPT. G. 'Must be--unless we've appropriated all the happiness in the world. MRS. G. (_Looking towards Simla._) Poor dears! Just fancy if we have! CAPT. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show, for it's a great deal too jolly to lose--eh, wife o' mine? MRS. G. O Pip! Pip! How much of you is a solemn, married man and how much a horrid, slangy schoolboy? CAPT. G. When you tell me how much of you was eighteen last birthday and how much is as old as the Sphinx and twice as mysterious, perhaps I'll attend to you. Lend me that banjo. The spirit moveth me to yowl at the sunset. MRS. G. Mind! It's not tuned. Ah! How that jars. CAPT. G. (_Turning pegs._) It's amazingly difficult to keep a banjo to proper pitch. MRS. G. It's the same with all musical instruments. What shall it be? CAPT. G. 'Vanity,' and let the hills hear. (_Sings through the first and half of the second verse. Turning to_ MRS. G.) Now, chorus! Sing, Pussy! BOTH TOGETHER. (_Con brio, to the horror of the monkeys who are settling for the night._)-- 'Vanity, all is Vanity,' said Wisdom, scorning me-- I clasped my true Love's tender hand and answered frank and free--ee:-- 'If this be Vanity who'd be wise? If this be Vanity who'd be wise? If this be Vanity who'd be wi--ise? (_Crescendo.