[There is a silence. Then ROBERT speaks with slow consideration.]
ROBERT. I—don't—know. It's dangerous, you understand!
VICAR. I go with you.
ROBERT. This ain't psalms an 'ymns an' ole maids' tea-parties, mind you! It may mean typhoid!
VICAR. I understand.
ROBERT. Rats.
VICAR. Yes.
ROBERT. They don't leave you alone: they got teeth, remember—poison in 'em!
VICAR. I will go with you.
[A slight pause. Then ROBERT, dropping into a quite ordinary tone, says.]