WELLWYN. Yes, Ann found this—too exposed. That tall house in Flight Street—we're going there. Seventh floor.
BERTLEY. Lift?
[WELLWYN shakes his head.]
BERTLEY. Dear me! No lift? Fine view, no doubt. [WELLWYN nods.] You'll be greatly missed.
WELLWYN. So Ann thinks. Vicar, what's become of that little flower-seller I was painting at Christmas? You took her into service.
BERTLEY. Not we—exactly! Some dear friends of ours. Painful subject!
WELLWYN. Oh!
BERTLEY. Yes. She got the footman into trouble.
WELLWYN. Did she, now?
BERTLEY. Disappointing. I consulted with CALWAY, and he advised me to try a certain institution. We got her safely in—excellent place; but, d'you know, she broke out three weeks ago. And since— I've heard [he holds his hands up] hopeless, I'm afraid—quite!