VICAR. I mean that I am the man!
MARY. You! . . .
AUNTIE [passionately]. It is not true! It is a lie! It's entirely your father's own fault!
MARY. I don't understand. Why should Uncle William lie to me?
AUNTIE. He is overwrought: he is ill. It is like your uncle
William to take upon himself another man's wickedness!
MARY. Then, that is true, at least: my father is a wicked man! . . .
AUNTIE. I don't want to speak about your father!
MARY. He is nothing that I have wished him to be: not brave . . .
VICAR. Yes—that at least!
MARY [turning towards him]. Beautiful? . . .