ROBERT. Yus, I gorit-: _Drains wrong_, eh? Thought I'd like to 'av' a look at 'em--my job, yer know, _drains_! So you'll excuse the togs: remind you of old days, eh what? VICAR. Robert, what have you come here for? ROBERT. You arsk me that? VICAR. Yes, I do. Bob . . . ROBERT. Why, to see my little gel, o' course--Gawd curse you! . . . Now go an tell your ole woman. [The VICAR stands as though stricken.] Did you 'ear me speak? Tell 'er! [The VICAR wavers a moment, and then staggers out silently through the door, right. ROBERT watches him off with a look of iron. He pays no heed to MANSON, who stands quite close to him, on the left.] See that blighter? That's the bloke as was born with no bowels! 'E might a-made a man o' me once, if 'e'd tried; but 'e didn't--'im and 'is like. Hm! Dam foolish, I call it, don't you? MANSON. Yes, both: foolish and--damned! [ROBERT turns and looks into his face for the first time as the curtain slowly falls on the First Act.] THE SECOND ACT As the curtain rises, the scene and situation remain unchanged. Presently, Robert, having completed his inspection of the other's face and costume, moves away with a characteristic interjection. ROBERT. Oh, Jeeroosalem! . . . 'Ere, 'elp us orf, comride: I'm wet through. Rainin' cats an' dorgs dahn at the Junction! 'Ere, I cawn't . . . Wot oh! The very identical! . . . [MANSON has helped him off with his coat, and now hands him the cassock.] [Getting into it.] Don't know oo you are, ole pal, but you're a bit of orl right! . . . Don't I look a corf-drop? 'Ere, where ye teking it to? . . . [He watches MANSON suspiciously as he places his coat before the fire to dry.] Bit 'andy, ain't yer? . . . So this is where 'e lives! A bloomin' palace, as never I did see! . . . [MANSON prepares a place for him at the table, and pours out a cup of tea, etc.] Right you are, ole comride! 'E said breakfast, an' breakfast it shall be, I don't fink! Blimey! Sossingers! Ain't 'ad the taste of sossingers in my gizzard for I don't know 'ow long! [He sits and devours whilst MANSON breaks and hands him bread, waiting upon him.] [Between bites.] Wouldn't think as I was 'is brother, would yer--not to look at me? But strooth, _I am_; an' wot's more, 'e cawn't deny it! . . . [He labours with a little joke.] There's a lot o' brothers knockin' abaht as people don't know on, eh what? See wot I mean? [Suddenly serious.] Not as I'm one o' them sort, mind yer: my father married my mother honest, same as I married my little . . . [After a moment's reflection, he makes fresh onslaught upon the sausages. Presently he looks up.] 'Ere, ain't you goin' ter 'av' none? . . . Cawn't yer speak? MANSON. Yes. ROBERT. Well, why cawn't yer arnser a bloke when 'e arsks yer civil? MANSON. You didn't make it dear that you wanted to eat with me. ROBERT. Want a bit of 'eart in it, eh? MANSON. Yes, that's all.