[ROGERS helps him on and goes out. The cassock is left lying on
the long stool by the window.]

[The VICAR crosses moodily to the fireplace. AUNTIE stands
undecided, watching him, the letter in her hand.]

AUNTIE. You're back early, dear.

VICAR. What can you expect? Not a soul there, of course!

AUNTIE. My poor William! I'm glad I thought to hurry up the
breakfast.

VICAR. Thanks, dear. You are always thoughtful.

AUNTIE. William . . .

[He looks up.]

I--I want to have a little talk with you.

VICAR. What is it? Any more--worry?

AUNTIE. You needn't make it so.

VICAR.. Ah!

AUNTIE [moving over to him and stroking his hair]. My dearest is
not well.