With my assistance, you can!
VICAR. Manson, how can we bring it about?
AUNTIE, I daren't! I daren't!
VICAR. I dare! I will!
AUNTIE. In God's name, how is it possible?
MANSON. _Make me the lord and master of this house for one little
hour_!
VICAR. By Heaven, yes!
MANSON. And you? You? . . .
[She falters a few moments: then, utterly broken down, she
whispers, feebly.]
AUNTIE. Yes.
MANSON. Then first TO CLEANSE IT OF ITS ABOMINATIONS!
[The BISHOP enters from the drawing-room. He carries a letter in
his hand.]
BISHOP. Well, here is the letter I have written to the secretary
of our Society: I have explained everything quite nicely; and have
warned him, of course, against doing anything definite in the
matter until we have consulted your dear brother. Now . . . Eh,
what? Oh! . . .
[MANSON has tapped his ear, peremptorily: he fixes his ear-trumpet.]
MANSON. I bear you a message from the master of this house. Leave
it.
BISHOP. Really, I . . . . . . . Most extraordinary! Hm!
[He blows down the ear-trumpet, and afterwards wipes it very
carefully with his handkerchief.
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