MR MARCH. Where? I didn't catch.
BLY. In the kitchen. Your Cook told me you couldn't get hold of an
'ouse parlour-maid. So I thought it was just a chance--you bein'
broadminded.
MR MARCH. Oh! I see. What would your mother say, Mary?
MARY. Mother would say: "Has she had experience?"
BLY. I've told you about her experience.
MR MARCH. Yes, but--as a parlour-maid.
BLY. Well! She can do hair. [Observing the smile exchanged between MR
MARCH and MARY] And she's quite handy with a plate.
MR MARCH. [Tentatively] I'm a little afraid my wife would feel--
BLY. You see, in this weavin' shop--all the girls 'ave 'ad to be in
trouble, otherwise they wouldn't take 'em. [Apologetically towards MARY]
It's a kind of a disorderly 'ouse without the disorders. Excusin' the
young lady's presence.
MARY. Oh! You needn't mind me, Mr Bly.
MR MARCH. And so you want her to come here? H'm!
BLY. Well I remember when she was a little bit of a thing--no higher
than my knee--[He holds out his hand.]
MR MARCH. [Suddenly moved] My God! yes. They've all been that. [To
MARY] Where's your mother?
MARY. Gone to Mrs Hunt's. Suppose she's engaged one, Dad?
MR MARCH.
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