ROBERT.  Well, I come to this ‘ouse this mornin’, I don’t mind ownin’ it, in a rotten bad frame of mind:  I ’ad a little job on ’and—­a job a bit above my ‘ead, an’ it got me dahn an’ worried me:  yus it did—­worried me.  That young leddy ’ll tell you wot I was like when she fust saw me:  I looked that bad, she thought I come to steal summat!  Well, p’r’aps I did, arter al!—­summat as I ’ad no right to, summat as don’t properly belong to a streaky swine like me.  That was when she fust saw me; but I was wuss before that, I tell you strite!

MARY [self-consciously].  What changed you?

ROBERT.  A bloke I met, miss, as knowed me better than I knowed myself.  ’E changed me.

AUNTIE. ) Manson! . . . 
VICAR. ) Manson! . . . 
MARY. ) Oh, I thought, perhaps . . .

ROBERT.  Don’t know ’is name; ’e was a fair knock-aht—­ Got togs on ’im like an Earl’s Court Exhibition . . . ’E changed me:  ’e taught me my own mind; ’e brought me back to my own job—­drains.

AUNTIE.  Yes . . .

ROBERT.  Funny thing, ma’am, peopled born different:  some’s born without noses in their ‘eads, worth speakin’ of.  I wasn’t—­I can smell out a stink anywhere.

AUNTIE [fascinated].  I am sure you can.  This is most interesting!

ROBERT [warming].  Moment I stuck my ’ead in this ’ouse, I knowed as summat was wrong in my line, and I ses to myself:  Wot oh, ’e ain’t such an awl-mighty liar, arter all—­that’s drains!  An’ drains it was, strike me dead—­arskin’ your pawdon!

MARY, Now, didn’t I always say . . .

ROBERT.  Yus, miss, you’re one o’ the nosey uns, I can see!  Well, soon as ole Togs got done with ’is talk, I got my smeller dahn, follered up the scent, an’ afore I knowed where I was, I was in it, up to my eyes!—­Out there in the room with the blood-red ‘eap o’ books!  Blimey, you never did see!  Muck, ma’am!—­Just look at my ’ands!  Ain’t that pretty?

’Owever, I got there, right enough, I don’t fink!  Fancy I put that little bit strite afore I done!

AUNTIE.  Oh, this is too beautiful of you! . . .

ROBERT [burning with enthusiasm, and manifestly affected by her appreciation].  Wait a bit:  I got more yet!  Talk abaht bee-utiful!—­That bit was on’y an ash-pan!  Look ’ere, ma’am, I got the loveliest little job on as ever yer soiled yer ’ands in! . . .

MARY.  Oh, do tell us! . . .

AUNTIE. ) Yes, do! . . . 
VICAR. ) Yes, yes! . . .

[A splendid rapture infects them all.]

ROBERT.  I followed up that drain—­I wasn’t goin’ to stick till kingdom come inside your little mouse-’ole out there:  No, I said, Where’s this leadin to?  What’s the ‘ell-an-glory use o’ flushin’ out this blarsted bit of a sink, with devil-know-wot stinkin’ cess-pool at the end of it!  That’s wot I said, ma’am! . . .