CALLIFER: Father! I hate the word. I had a brother who believed in nothing, and for thirty years now I have believed in nothing too. I used to pray, I used to love what you call God, and then my eyes were opened—to nothing. A father belongs to his children until they grow up and he’s free of them. But these people will never grow up. They die children and leave children behind them. I’m condemned to being a father for life.

MISS CONNOLLY: I’ve never heard such words before out of a priest’s mouth.

A pause.

CALLIFER: You wouldn’t have heard them now if the bottle you found hadn’t been empty.

MISS CONNOLLY: They say your breath smells in the confessional.

CALLIFER: And so do theirs. Of worse things. I’d rather smell of whisky than bad teeth.

MISS CONNOLLY: You’re full of it now.

CALLIFER: Oh no, I’m empty. Quite empty. (The door from the hall opens and James Callifer enters.) Who are you?

JAMES: Your nephew. If you are Father Callifer.

CALLIFER: My nephew? (Pulling himself together): Well, well, it’s long since I’ve seen any of the family. I wouldn’t have kept you waiting if I’d known. I thought you were just—well—You should have warned me you were coming. Miss Connolly—

MISS CONNOLLY: I can get the guest room ready right away.

JAMES: I’m not staying. I was only passing and I thought—

CALLIFER: The nearest town where you’ll be comfortable is Wisbech. That’s twenty miles away. You’d do much better to stay the night here.

MISS CONNOLLY: The sheets are ready aired.

CALLIFER (he is unused to being a host; nobody has stayed in this house for years): Have you dined? It would be no trouble, would it, Miss Connolly, you could—

MISS CONNOLLY: There’s a couple of chops for tomorrow’s lunch. It won’t take a minute.

CALLIFER: Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce the two of you. This is my housekeeper, Miss Connolly. My nephew, John.

JAMES (who does not correct him): How do you do, Miss Connolly? I had food on the way. I just wanted to see you, have a word with you after all these years. Perhaps a drink.

CALLIFER (watching Miss Connolly): Of course you must have a drink. While Miss Connolly is getting your room ready. Sit down, my dear fellow, sit down. That’s the only comfortable chair. Now, Miss Connolly, what have we in the house?

MISS CONNOLLY (grudgingly): There’s a bit of sherry.

CALLIFER: Not at this hour.

MISS CONNOLLY: Maybe I can find some altar wine.

CALLIFER: Do. And bring a jug of water.

MISS CONNOLLY (suspiciously): What would you be wanting the water for?

CALLIFER: To temper the wine, Miss Connolly. (Miss Connolly goes out with the supper tray.) A good woman—in her way. And how’s the bank?