My—my Brother from Benares, I presume?
ROBERT. What, my pal, 'is brother! Oh, Je'oshaphat!
BISHOP. Ten thousand pardons! Really, my eyesight is deplorable!
Delighted to meet you! . . .
I was just observing to our charming host that—er— Humph! . . .
Bless me! Now what was I . . .
MANSON. Something about your sacred obligations, I believe.
BISHOP. May I trouble you again?
[MANSON gravely fixes the ear-trumpet in his ear.]
ROBERT. That's right: stick the damned thing in 'is ear-'ole, comride!
MANSON [through the trumpet]. Your sacred obligations.