MANSON [resuming his work at the table]. Thank you, sir: it's
always helpful, coming to a new place, to know who are--and who are
not--the family connections.

VICAR. Come, Rogers! My poor brethren in the church are waiting.
I must see to their necessities at once. [He starts for the door.]

MANSON. Pardon me, sir.

[He hands him the bread which, among those necessities, he has
forgotten. The VICAR looks at him a moment in troubled thought,
and then goes out, followed by ROGERS.]

ROGERS [at door]. I'll be back to 'elp you in with the breakfast,
Mr. Manson. [Exit.]

MARY. Now, Manson: let's talk! You've got nothing more to do? . . .

MANSON. Not till breakfast.

MARY. Then come over here, and make ourselves comfy.

[They go over to the settee: she plumps herself down, gathering her
legs up into a little bunch. He seats himself beside her.]

Now! Tell me everything you know about the Bishop of Benares!

MANSON. What--Uncle Josh?

MARY. Ssh--ssh--ssh! That's naughty, you know! You heard what