Clare, how dare you! (Directly she has disappeared, he laughs heartily.) Oh! Most satisfactory.
(He changes plates and commences on Clare’s untouched omelette. John, who has looked through the grating and recognised Baldwin outside, goes to the Dean.)
John.
Mr. Cosway’s gardener has just called again, sir.
Dean.
Very well. Bring him round.
John.
Yes, sir.
(He goes to the gateway and opens the wicket. The Dean continues eating his breakfast. Baldwin enters in Sunday broadcloth and a broad-brimmed, black, soft felt hat. He carries an abnormally large prayer-book and hymn-book.)
John.