[Neli throws open the door and slams it to after her as she pursues the Deacon out into the bright midday sunshine.
MRS. JENKINS THE MIDWIFE. Well, indeed, what is it? Has she been taken?
MRS. JONES THE WASH. [Getting up heavily.] Such movin' eloquence! A saintly man is Deacon Roberts!
TOM MORRIS THE SHEEP. Aye, a saintly man is Deacon Roberts!
HUGH. [Picking up his book and speaking slowly.] Aye, eloquence that knoweth the place of hell even better than it knoweth Bala whatever!
MRS. JENKINS THE MIDWIFE. [Very businesslike.] Aye, 'twas a treat—a rare treat! But where's my pins now?
MRS. JONES THE WASH. [Very businesslike.] Yiss, yiss, 'twas a grand an' fine treat. But I'm wantin' my soap now.
TOM MORRIS THE SHEEP. Have ye any tobacco, Hughie lad?
CURTAIN