confidential.] _You are_ a butler, ain't you? Ain't you,
now? . . .

MANSON. Something like that.

ROGERS. Well, perhaps master 'asn't allus been as 'igh-- See! O'
course, I don't know, but they _do_ s'y as 'e was once only a . . .
Wot oh! 'Ere 'e is!

[The VICAR'S voice is heard off.]

VICAR. I shall be in to breakfast at a quarter to nine. Don't
wait for me, dearest.

[He enters hurriedly from door, right, watch in hand. He has on
his cassock and biretta.]

So awkward-- Both my curates down with the whooping-cough!
To-day, too! Just when I was expecting . . .

[As he goes up stage, left of table, MANSON comes down, right, with
serviettes. The VICAR wheels round slowly, facing him. Observing
his astonishment, ROGERS steps forward with explanation.]

ROGERS. It's the new butler, sir. Mr. Manson, sir.

VICAR. Surely, I--I've seen you somewhere before.

MANSON [looking at him]. Have you, sir?