WHISPERING VOICE of MERCY. Where's 'e got to now, Gladys?
WHISPERING VOICE OF GLADYS. 'E've just finished.
VOICE OF CONNIE. Whu pushed t'door open?
VOICE OF GLADYS. Tim Clyst I giv' it a little push, meself.
VOICE OF CONNIE. Oh!
VOICE of GLADYS. Tim Clyst's gone in!
ANOTHER VOICE. O-o-o-h!
VOICE of MERCY. Whu else is there, tu?
VOICE OF GLADYS. Ivy's there, an' Old Mrs. Potter, an' tu o' the
maids from th'Hall; that's all as ever.
VOICE of CONNIE. Not the old grey mare?
VOICE of GLADYS. No. She ain't ther'. 'Twill just be th'ymn now,
an' the Blessin'. Tibby gone for 'em?
VOICE OF MERCY. Yes.
VOICE of CONNIE. Mr. Burlacombe's gone in home, I saw 'im pass by
just now--'e don' like it. Father don't like it neither.
VOICE of MERCY. Mr. Strangway shoudn' 'ave taken my skylark, an'
thrown father out o' winder. 'Tis goin' to be awful fun! Oh!
[She jumps up and dawn in the darkness. And a voice from far in
the shadow says: "Hsssh! Quiet, yu maids!" The voice has
ceased speaking in the church. There is a moment's dead
silence. The voice speaks again; then from the wheezy little
organ come the first faint chords of a hymn.]
GLADYS. "Nearer, my God, to Thee!"
VOICE of MERCY. 'Twill be funny, with no one 'ardly singin'.
[The sound of the old hymn sung by just six voices comes out to
them rather sweet and clear.
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