FRANK. Theres no time to think of that now. Here! [He bounds into the house].
REV. S. He’s so impetuous. I don’t know what to do with him, Mr Praed.
FRANK [returning with a clerical felt hat, which he claps on his father’s head]. Now: off with you. [Rushing him through the gate]. Praed and I’ll wait here, to give the thing an unpremeditated air. [The clergyman, dazed but obedient, hurries off].
FRANK. We must get the old girl back to town somehow, Praed. Come! Honestly, dear Praddy, do you like seeing them together?
PRAED. Oh, why not?
FRANK [his teeth on edge] Don’t it make your flesh creep ever so little? that wicked old devil, up to every villainy under the sun, I’ll swear, and Vivie—ugh!
PRAED. Hush, pray. Theyre coming.
[The clergyman and Crofts are seen coming along the road, followed by Mrs Warren and Vivie walking affectionately together.]
FRANK. Look: she actually has her arm round the old woman’s waist. It’s her right arm: she began it. She’s gone sentimental, by God! Ugh! ugh! Now do you feel the creeps? [The clergyman opens the gate: and Mrs Warren and Vivie pass him and stand in the middle of the garden looking at the house. Frank, in an ecstasy of dissimulation, turns gaily to Mrs Warren, exclaiming] Ever so delighted to see you, Mrs Warren. This quiet old rectory garden becomes you perfectly.
MRS WARREN. Well, I never! Did you hear that, George? He says I look well in a quiet old rectory garden.