Then--Miss Mary? . . .
VICAR [quickly]. Oh, my niece is the daughter of--of my other
brother.
MANSON. I see: _two_ brothers?
VICAR [shortly]. Yes, yes, I have: I--I had.
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.
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