[She moves briskly across to the bell.]

VICAR. What are you going to do, Martha?

AUNTIE, [flashing round passionately, 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 . . .