Doone.—Who's dead now?
Blayne.—No one that I know of; but Gaddy's hooked at last!
Dropping Chorus.—How much? The Devil! Markyn was pulling your leg. Not Gaddy!
Blayne.—It's been given out up above.
Mackesy (Barrister-at-law).—Huh! Women will give out anything. What does accused say?
Blayne.—Markyn told me that he congratulated him warily—one hand held out, t'other ready to guard. Gaddy turned pink and said it was so.
Curtiss.—Poor old Gaddy! They all do it. Who's she? Let's hear the details.
Blayne.—She's a girl—daughter of a Colonel Somebody.
Doone.—Simla's stiff with Colonels' daughters. Be more explicit.
Blayne.—Wait a shake. What was her name? Three—something. Three—
Curtiss.—Stars, perhaps. Gaddy knows that brand.
Blayne.—Threegan—Minnie Threegan.
Mackesy.—Threegan! Isn't she a little bit of a girl with red hair?
Blayne.—'Bout that—from what from what Markyn said.
Mackesy.—Then I've met her. She was at Lucknow last season. 'Owned a permanently juvenile Mamma, and danced damnably. I say, Jervoise, you knew the Threegans, didn't you?
Jervoise. (Civilian of twenty-five years' service, waking up from his doze).—Eh? What's that? Knew who? How? I thought I was at home, confound you!
Mackesy.—The Threegan girl's engaged, so Blayne says.
Jervoise. (slowly).—Engaged—engaged! Bless my soul, I'm getting an old man! Little Minnie Threegan engaged! It was only the other day I went home with them in the Surat—no, the Massilia—and she was crawling about on her hands and knees among the ayahs. 'Used to call me the "Tick
