I’m so glad that his first day here was a Sunday.
You don’t know what I felt when we knelt down side by side in church. I was very grateful.
I know. I could see it in your face and the Colonel’s.
The Vicar was dreadfully disappointed that he didn’t stay for Holy Communion. You know that he looks upon that as the essential part of the service.
I think we were a little disappointed, too. We were so surprised when John walked out.
No. I talked it over with the Colonel. We didn’t quite know what to do. I don’t know whether to mention it or not.
He was always a very regular communicant.
I don’t see why you shouldn’t say something to him about it, Evelyn.
[_There is the sound of a laugh in the garden._
[SYLVIA BULLOUGH _and_ JOHN WHARTON _come in. She is no longer quite young. She has a pleasant, friendly look rather than beauty, and she suggests the homely virtues of a girl very well brought up in a nice English family; she gives the impression of a practical, competent, and sensible woman. She will make a good wife and an excellent mother. She is very simply dressed in light summery things, and she wears a straw hat. She is carrying a string bag, in which are a number of household purchases._ JOHN WHARTON _is in mufti. He is a man of thirty._
[SYLVIA _kisses_ MRS. WHARTON _and shakes hands with_ MRS. POOLE, _then she kisses the_ COLONEL.
[_Gaily._] That’s a deliberate lie, John.
[_Shaking hands with her._] I daresay you suspected it.
I had a good look at you in church, you know.
Is that how vicars’ wives behave themselves?
They allow themselves a little licence when young people come home on leave.
Not exactly. I saw Sylvia darting into Mrs. Gann’s shop, evidently to avoid me....
[_Interrupting._] I don’t know how you imagined I could see you out of the back of my head.
So I ran like a hare, and caught her in the very act of buying two pounds of vermicelli.
To say nothing of a tin of sardines and a packet of mustard.
Now take off your hat, Sylvia. You mustn’t hide the best feature you’ve got.
[_Taking it off._] I hope you don’t think I shall go on doing exactly what you tell me a minute after the war’s over.
I haven’t noticed any startling alacrity to do what I tell you as it is.
You ungrateful fellow! When have I hesitated to carry out your slightest wish?