]
AUNTIE. Now, is it God with you or with me, William?
[For a moment this unnerves him. Then setting his teeth together,
he faces his task stubbornly.]
VICAR. Have you any idea about this man?
MARY. How do you mean--any idea?
VICAR. As to why he put this doubt into your head about your
father.
MARY. He seemed to be thinking about himself, and how unworthy he
was of his own little girl.
VICAR. Did he say--unworthy?
MARY. That's what I think he meant. What he said was that perhaps
my father wasn't good enough to be your brother, uncle. That's not
true, is it?
VICAR. No, by Heaven! That's not true!
MARY [rapturously]. Oh, I knew it, I knew it!
VICAR [in an agony]. Stop! You don't understand!
MARY. I understand quite enough! That's all I wanted to know!
VICAR. Listen, child! Listen! I mean that it is I who am not
worthy to be called his brother.
AUNTIE. William, this is absurd!
MARY [snuggling up to him]. Isn't he a dear?
VICAR [freeing himself]. Listen to me, Mary: I have something
awful to tell you: try and bear it bravely.
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