Part 29 (1/2)
[There is a general rapturous excitement.]
VICAR. Praise G.o.d! Shew him in at once!
ROGERS [flabbergasted]. What! In '_ere_, sir? . . .
VICAR. Come, come, come!
[ROGERS'S cosmos is fast slipping away: he crawls abjectly to the door: his hand on the k.n.o.b, he turns once more a face of bewildered inquiry upon the VICAR, who snaps his fingers impatiently.]
ROGERS [with a sickly smile]. 'E's just outside, sir.
[Opening the door, he whines.]
Oh, do come in.
[ROBERT enters, amply fulfilling the lad's description. The latter lags out, nauseated with the world.]
[ROBERT stands up stage, in the middle: AUNTIE and VICAR, down stage, one on either side. MARY with her aunt.]
ROBERT. Can I be 'eard civil in this 'ouse, if I speak a few words?
[They make a movement as towards him.]
'Old back! Don't you come near me! Don't you so much as speak till I've done! . . .
[To Auntie and Vicar respectively]. You don't know me: you don't know me . . . Understand?
There's no one 'ere as knows oo I am, excep' one little gel--'er over there. Now, keep quiet! 'Ere! . . .
[MARY goes up to him.]
Tell 'em oo I am.
MARY. Why, it's my friend--the man I was telling you about! The man who looks after the drains!
ROBERT. That's about it: I'm the drain-man, _see_? Thought you might be mistakin' me for--summat else, if you wasn't told. Now you know.
[MARY'S face, as she returns, bears the first dawn of an idea. The VICAR lifts a hand of warning to AUNTIE.]
VICAR. Go on.
ROBERT. That's what I come 'ere to talk abaht--my job. P'r'aps you'll think as it ain't a tasty subjic, before a lot o' nice, clean, respectable people as never 'ad anythin' worse on their fingers than a bit of lawn-dirt, playin' crokey; but _some one_ 'as to see to the drains, _some one_ 'as to clear up the muck of the world! I'm the one.
An' I'm 'ere to tell you about it.
AUNTIE [involuntarily]. Oh! . . .
ROBERT. You don't like that, ma'am? 'Urts your feelin's, eh?
AUNTIE. Yes; but not in the way you mean,
MARY. But you know, you really are a little unpleasant!