COLONEL LAWTON. [Still dazed.] A prayer-book…. Me? Well, I'll be— [Struck.] Here, Parson, let's swap. You take the prayer-book—I'll take the old fob.
REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [Stiffly.] Thank you. I already have a prayer-book. [Goes to the window and looks out—his back turned to the others—trying to control his feelings.
MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [Her voice trembling with vexation and disappointment.] Well, all that I can say is—I'm disappointed in your uncle.
COLONEL LAWTON. Is it for this you hauled us out in the rain, Frederik?
MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [Bitterly.] I see now … he only gave to the church to show off.
REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Rose! … I myself am disappointed, but—
MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. He did! Or why didn't he continue his work? He was not a generous man. He was a hard, uncharitable, selfish old man.
REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [Horrified.] Rose, my dear!
MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. He was! If he were here, I'd say it to his face. The congregation sicked you after him. Now that he's gone and you'll get nothing more, they'll call you slow—slow and pokey. You'll see! You'll see to-morrow.
REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Sh!