AUNTIE. There is another--I! I kept them apart: I poisoned your uncle against him: I took you away from him: It was I who kept you in ignorance of your father!

MARY. Why? . . .

AUNTIE. Because he stands in the way of my husband's happiness!

Because, even, he is your father! Because I hate him! I could almost _wish him dead_!

VICAR. Martha! . . .

[There is a long pause.]

MARY. Then I have n.o.body, now. It's no use wishing any more.

AUNTIE. Mary . . .

MARY. No! . . . I want to be alone.

[She goes out into the garden. They follow her out with their eyes.]

VICAR. So! G.o.d has revealed His partisanship!--He has beggared us both!

[AUNTIE considers this for a moment. Then, with sudden determination, she rises.]

AUNTIE. I am not going to be beggared without a struggle for it, William!

[She moves briskly across to the bell.]

VICAR. What are you going to do, Martha?

AUNTIE, [flashing round pa.s.sionately, before she can ring the bell]. Do you think I am going to stand by and see your life wrecked--yours and that child's?

VICAR. We are not the only persons concerned, Martha.

AUNTIE. As far as I care, you are!

VICAR. And what of Robert? . . .

AUNTIE. Robert! That's what I'm going to see to now!

[She rings the bell.]

There's only one way of dealing with a brute like that!

VICAR. What's that?

AUNTIE. Pack him off to Australia, Africa--anywhere, so long as we are never pestered with him again!

VICAR, Do you think you'll get him to go?

AUNTIE. Oh, I'll find the money! A drunkard like that will do anything for money! Well, he shall have plenty: perhaps he'll drink himself to . . .

VICAR. By Heaven, but I say no!

AUNTIE. By Heaven, but I say yes! It's about time I took things in hand again! Do you think I'm going to risk that child learning everything? She knows more than enough already! Providentially, she does not know the worst!

VICAR. And what knowledge do you consider Providence has so kindly spared her?

AUNTIE. The knowledge who that man was! She shall never know, if I can have my way! [She rings the bell again, impatiently.] Why doesn't he come? Why doesn't he come?

VICAR. Who?

AUNTIE. Manson.

[Enter MANSON by the main door. There is a subtle change in the manner of him, a look in his eye, as of the servant merging in the master.]

MANSON. You rang.

AUNTIE. Yes, come in, Manson. I want to have a little confidential talk with you--confidential, you understand.

MANSON [eying her]. If you please. I expected this.

[He has the air of a judge. She hurries on, unheeding.]

AUNTIE. Manson, you saw everything. You were here when that dreadful creature arrived.

MANSON. Which?

AUNTIE. Why, my husband's brother, Robert. Didn't you tell me, William, that Manson heard everything he said?

VICAR. Yes.

AUNTIE. Then you will know the wretched plight we are in. Manson, it's terrible. I want your help. By-the-way, you have not spoken about it to the other servants?

MANSON. I am always most discreet.

AUNTIE [touched]. Thank you, Manson, thank you: I felt that I could trust you. It's to prove my trust that I've sent for you now. Perhaps I'd better begin by explaining everything quite clearly, so that you . . .

MANSON. There is no need. I know everything already.

AUNTIE, Everything! How? . . .

MANSON. A certain gift of divination--mine by birth. And, besides, you forget that I had a long conversation with your brother-in-law after master left the room.

AUNTIE. What! Whilst my brother was here?

MANSON. Yes: we all three had breakfast together.

AUNTIE. Breakfast together! Then James has heard all!

MANSON. Not quite all. You may have observed that your brother is a little deaf.