THE SQUIRE. [Flabbergasted] God knows!
MAUD. Somebody'll come.
THE SQUIRE. Rector—you—you've got to——
MAUD. Yes, Bertie.
THE RECTOR. Dear me! But—er—what—er——How?
THE SQUIRE. [Deeply-to himself] The whole thing's damn delicate.
[The door right is opened and a MAID appears. She is a determined-looking female. They face her in silence.]
THE RECTOR. Er—er——your master is not in?
THE MAID. No. 'E's gone up to London.
THE RECTOR. Er——Mr Challenger, I think?