Stop. No. You must NEVER pull a coat at
the skirts, Captain Brassbound: it spoils the sit of it. Allow me.
(She pulls the lappels of his coat vigorously forward) Put back
your shoulders. (He frowns, but obeys.) That's better. (She
buttons the top button.) Now button the rest from the top down.
DOES it catch you at all under the arm?
BRASSBOUND (miserably--all resistance beaten out of him). No.
LADY CICELY. That's right. Now before I go back to poor Marzo, say
thank you to me for mending your jacket, like a nice polite
sailor.
BRASSBOUND (sitting down at the table in great agitation). Damn
you! you have belittled my whole life to me. (He bows his head on
his hands, convulsed.)
LADY CICELY (quite understanding, and putting her hand kindly on
his shoulder). Oh no. I am sure you have done lots of kind things
and brave things, if you could only recollect them. With Gordon
for instance? Nobody can belittle that.
He looks up at her for a moment; then kisses her hand. She presses
his and turns away with her eyes so wet that she sees Drinkwater,
coming in through the arch just then, with a prismatic halo round
him. Even when she sees him clearly, she hardly recognizes him;
for he is ludicrously clean and smoothly brushed; and his hair,
formerly mud color, is now a lively red.
DRINKWATER. Look eah, kepn. (Brassbound springs up and recovers
himself quickly.) Eahs the bloomin Shike jest appeahd on the
orawzn wiv abaht fifty men.
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