Yes, Bertie.
THE RECTOR. Dear me! But--er--what--er----How?
THE SQUIRE. [Deeply-to himself] The whole thing's damn delicate.
[The door right is opened and a MAID appears. She is a
determined-looking female. They face her in silence.]
THE RECTOR. Er--er----your master is not in?
THE MAID. No. 'E's gone up to London.
THE RECTOR. Er----Mr Challenger, I think?
THE MAID. Yes.
THE RECTOR. Yes! Er----quite so
THE MAID. [Eyeing them] D'you want--Mrs Challenger?
THE RECTOR. Ah! Not precisely----
THE SQUIRE. [To him in a low, determined voice] Go on.
THE RECTOR. [Desperately] I asked because there was a--a--Mr.
Challenger I used to know in the 'nineties, and I thought--you
wouldn't happen to know how long they've been married? My friend
marr----
THE MAID. Three weeks.
THE RECTOR. Quite so--quite so! I shall hope it will turn out to
be----Er--thank you--Ha!
LADY ELLA. Our dog has been fighting with the Rector's, and Mrs
Challenger rescued him; she's bathing his ear. We're waiting to
thank her. You needn't----
THE MAID.
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