VICAR. Robert! [Taking his left hand].
AUNTIE. Brother! [Taking his other hand.]
[They form a kind of cross.]
[MANSON and ROGERS re-enter with table-cloth, etc., for lunch.]
MANSON. Come along, Rogers. Take that end.
[They lay the cloth, as it were with ceremonial gravity, MANSON being at the upper end of the table. They pay no heed to the others, who watch them interestedly.]
ROBERT. I could just do with a good, square feed. My work meks me 'ungry.
MANSON. Flowers, Rogers.
[ROGERS brings vase from side-board and places it on the VICAR'S side of the table. MANSON removes it to a more communal position. Presently looking up, he sees the group to his left watching him.]
Oh, beg pardon, sir: perhaps you'd like to know—the Bishop of
Benares is here.