g by? . . .

VICAR. Hour by hour--dying--alone . . .

ROBERT. The comrides up in the spans an arches, joinin' 'ands . . .

VICAR. Fainter and fainter, below there, and at last--an endless
silence! . . .

ROBERT. 'Igh in the dome, the 'ammerin's of the comrides as 'av'
climbed aloft!

AUNTIE. William, there is yet one other way! . . .

VICAR. Yes, yes, I see: I see! . . . [To ROBERT]. Then--you mean
to go?

ROBERT. By 'Eaven, yus!

VICAR. Then, by God and all the powers of grace, you shall not go
alone! Off with these lies and make-believes! Off with these
prisoner's shackles! They cramp, they stifle me! Freedom!
Freedom! This is no priest's work--it calls for a man! . . .

[He tears off his parson's coat and collar, casting them furiously
aside. He rolls up his sleeves.]

Now, if you're ready, Comrade: you and I together!

AUNTIE. God's might go with you, William! Accept him, Christ!

[There is a silence. Then ROBERT speaks with slow consideration.]

ROBERT. I--don't--know. It's dangerous, you understand!

VICAR. I go with you.

ROBERT. This ain't psalms an 'ymns an' ole maids' tea-parties,
mind you! It may mean typhoid!

VICAR. I understand.

ROBERT. Rats.

VICAR. Yes.

ROBERT. They don't leave you alone: they got teeth,
remember--poison in 'em!

VICAR. I will go with you.

[A slight pause. Then ROBERT, dropping into a quite ordinary tone,
says.]

ROBERT. Then let's 'av' summat so eat, an' get along. There's
nuthin' more to say.

MARY [inspired]. Yes, there is!

ROBERT. What do you mean, miss?

MARY. I mean that I understand: that I know who you are.

ROBERT. Me? . . .

MARY [simply]. Yes, you are my father.

ROBERT. 'Ow the everlastin' did you know that?

MARY [going up to him]. Because you are my wish come true: because
you are brave, because you are very beautiful, because you are good!

ROBERT. My little kid! My little kid!

[They embrace each other.]

VICAR. Robert! [Taking his left hand].

AUNTIE. Brother! [Taking his other hand.]

[They form a kind of cross.]

[MANSON and ROGERS re-enter with table-cloth, etc., for lunch.]

MANSON. Come along, Rogers. Take that end.

[They lay the cloth, as it were with ceremonial gravity, MANSON
being at the upper end of the table. They pay no heed to the
others, who watch them interestedly.]

ROBERT. I could just do with a good, square feed. My work meks me
'ungry.

MANSON.