Windrank. No, my dear fellow, I'm in my element now, so I think I'll stay.
Sexton. Goodness, the clock is striking twelve, and the ghosts will be coming!
Windrank (jumping to his feet). That's a different story! (The Sexton guides Windrank toward the door.) Listen, sexton—I'm beginning to have strong doubts about the trinity.
Sexton. Well, I declare!
Windrank. It's your trinity I'm thinking of.
Sexton. What do you mean, master skipper?
Windrank. I think there must be four of you, after all.
Sexton. Four—of whom?
Windrank. How about the tapster? Shouldn't he be counted, too?
Sexton. Hush, man! That's only nights.