Vicar.
How did you win them?
John.
Oh, I don’t know. Playing about generally.
Mrs. Wharton.
I don’t think you’ll get very much more than that out of John.
Vicar.
[To John.] You lucky beggar! You’ve had your chance and you were able to take it. That’s where I should have been, where my heart was, with the brave lads at the front. And my confounded chest has kept me chained to this little tin-pot parish.
Mrs. Poole.
My husband suffers from his lungs.