FRANK. It’s ever so much more serious than that. You say you’ve only just met Vivie for the first time?
PRAED. Yes.
FRANK [rhapsodically] Then you can have no idea what a girl she is. Such character! Such sense! And her cleverness! Oh, my eye, Praed, but I can tell you she is clever! And—need I add?—she loves me.
CROFTS [putting his head out of the window] I say, Praed: what are you about? Do come along. [He disappears].
FRANK. Hallo! Sort of chap that would take a prize at a dog show, ain’t he? Who’s he?
PRAED. Sir George Crofts, an old friend of Mrs Warren’s. I think we had better come in.
[On their way to the porch they are interrupted by a call from the gate. Turning, they see an elderly clergyman looking over it.]
THE CLERGYMAN [calling] Frank!
FRANK. Hallo! [To Praed] The Roman father. [To the clergyman] Yes, gov’nor: all right: presently. [To Praed] Look here, Praed: youd better go in to tea. I’ll join you directly.
PRAED. Very good. [He goes into the cottage].