ROBERT. Things may 'a' bin agin 'im, miss! . . .

MARY. Oh, you make me so unhappy! . . .

ROBERT. P'r'aps 'e's 'ad a 'ard life--a bitter 'ard life--same as I 'av', miss . . . [He breaks down.]

MARY. Ssh! Please! Please! . . .

I can quite understand: indeed, indeed, I can! I'm sorry--oh, so sorry for you. You are thinking of yourself and of your own little girl--the little girl who doesn't know what you have been telling me. Don't be miserable! I'm sure it will all turn out right in the end--things always do; far better than you dream! Only . . .

don't take away _my_ little dream!

[She turns away her face. ROBERT rises heavily.]

ROBERT. All right, miss--I won't: swelp me Gawd, I won't. Don't cry, miss. Don't, miss! Breaks my 'eart--after all you've done for me. I ort never to 'a' bin born--mekin' you cry! Thank you kindly, miss: thank you very kindly. I'll--I'll tek my 'ook.

MARY. Oh, but I'm so sorry for _you_!

ROBERT. Thank you, miss.

MARY. I did so want to help you.

ROBERT. You 'av', miss.

MARY. Before you go, won't you tell me your name? Who are you?

ROBERT. I . . .

I got no name worth speakin' of, miss: I'm--just the bloke wot's a-lookin' arter the drains.

Good-bye, miss.

[At the door, he turns.]

Sorry I used bad words, miss.

[She runs to him and offers her hand. He takes it.]

MARY. Good-bye,

ROBERT. Good-bye, miss.

[He goes out.]

[She shuts the door after him, and turns a wretched little face towards the audience as the curtain falls.]

THE FOURTH ACT

As the curtain rises, the scene and situation remain unchanged.

After a moment, Mary comes down to the settee, left, and buries her face in the cushions, weeping. Shortly, the handle of the drawing-room door is turned, and from within there emerges a murmur of voices, the Vicar's uppermost.

VICAR [within]. Very well, then, after you have finished your letters! . . .

[The voices continue confusedly: MARY rises quickly and goes into the garden.]

[The VICAR enters and goes to the mantel-piece weariedly: a moment later, AUNTIE.]

BISHOP [within], I shall only be about twenty minutes.

AUNTIE [entering]. All right, don't hurry, James: you have all the morning.

[She closes the door upon the BISHOP'S grunts, and comes, to the middle of the room.]

VICAR. Hm! When he has finished his letters!

AUNTIE. Yes, things seem to be shaping better than we thought, William. Perhaps we have a little misjudged him.

[He looks at her curiously.]

To think, my dear, that the rebuilding of the church is becoming possible at last! All your hopes, all your enthusiasms, about to be realised! Now, it only remains to gain your brother Joshua's approval and help, and the scheme is complete!

VICAR. Supposing he--doesn't approve of the scheme?

AUNTIE. My dear, he must approve: he will see the advantages at once. I think James made that perfectly clear! . . .

And then, look at the opportunities it creates for _you_! Not only the church, William, the beautiful big church of your dreams, with the great spires and flashing crosses and glorious windows; but a much larger sphere of usefulness than you ever dared to dream!

Think of your work, William, of your great gifts--even James had to acknowledge them, didn't he?--Think of the influence for good you will be able to wield! Ah! And then I shall see my beloved, _himself_ again--No more worry, no more feverish nights and days, none of the wretched frets and fancies that have been troubling him all this morning; but the great Scholar and Saint again, the master of men's souls, the priest in the congregation!

VICAR. Suppose you try and forget me for a moment. Do you think you can?

AUNTIE. William, that's unkind! Of course I can't.

VICAR. It might mean the salvation of my soul.

AUNTIE. Oh, William! Now you're going to begin to worry again!

VICAR. Oh no: I'm quite calm. Your brother's powers of reasoning have left me philosophical. . . .

Tell me, are you quite sure that you have grasped the full meaning of his project?

AUNTIE. Of course! You think no one can understand a simple business dealing but men! Women are every bit as clever!

VICAR. Well, then, this project: what was it?

AUNTIE. James explained clearly enough: the affiliation of your brother's scheme with that of the society he mentioned.

VICAR. Yes--_what_ society?