MRS GILBEY. [looking apprehensively at Juggins] Tch--! Juggins:
a chair.

DORA. Oh, Ive let it out, have I! [Contemplating Juggins
approvingly as he places a chair for her between the table and the
sideboard] But hes the right sort: I can see that. [Buttonholing
him] You wont let on downstairs, old man, will you?

JUGGINS. The family can rely on my absolute discretion. [He
withdraws].

DORA. [sitting down genteelly] I dont know what youll say to me:
you know I really have no right to come here; but then what was I to
do? You know Holy Joe, Bobby's tutor, dont you? But of course you
do.

GILBEY. [with dignity] I know Mr Joseph Grenfell, the brother of
Monsignor Grenfell, if it is of him you are speaking.

DORA. [wide-eyed and much amused] No!!! You dont tell me that old
geezer has a brother a Monsignor! And youre Catholics! And I never
knew it, though Ive known Bobby ever so long! But of course the last
thing you find out about a person is their religion, isnt it?

MRS GILBEY. We're not Catholics. But when the Samuelses got an
Archdeacon's son to form their boy's mind, Mr Gilbey thought Bobby
ought to have a chance too. And the Monsignor is a customer. Mr
Gilbey consulted him about Bobby; and he recommended a brother of his
that was more sinned against than sinning.