Vicar.
Hulloa, hulloa, hulloa! May I come in?
Mrs. Wharton.
[Smiling.] Of course. How do you do?
Colonel Wharton.
My dear Vicar!
Vicar.
[Entering.] I suppose I ought to have gone round to the front door, and rung the bell like a gentleman. My dear Dorothy, when will you teach me how to behave?
Mrs. Poole.
I’ve long given up the attempt.