[The ladies regard the image of Sir Ralph with indignation, and pass on; the Verger chuckles faintly at having produced his effect.
The Evangelical S. (snuffing the air suspiciously). I'm sorry to perceive that you are in the habit of burning incense here!
[He looks sternly at the Verger, as though to imply that it is useless to impose upon him.
The Verger. No, Sir, what you smell ain't incense—on'y the vaults after the damp weather we've bin 'aving.
[The Evangelical Sightseer drops behind, divided between relief and disappointment.
A Plastic S. (to the Verger). What a perfectly exquisite rose-window that is! For all the world like a kaleidoscope. I suppose it dates from the Norman period, at least?
The Verger (coldly). No, Ma'am, it was only put up about thirty year ago. We consider it the poorest glass we 'ave.
The Plast. S. Oh, the glass, yes; that's hideous, certainly. I meant the—the other part.
The Verger. The tracery, Ma'am? That was restored at the same time by a local man—and a shocking job he made of it, too!
The Plast. S. Yes, it quite spoils the Cathedral, doesn't it? Couldn't it be taken down?