BLY. Fine weather, sir, for the time of year.
MR MARCH. It is. The trees are growing.
BLY. All! I wouldn't be surprised to see a change of Government before
long. I've seen 'uge trees in Brazil without any roots--seen 'em come
down with a crash.
MR MARCH. Good image, Mr Bly. Hope you're right!
BLY. Well, Governments! They're all the same--Butter when they're out
of power, and blood when they're in. And Lord! 'ow they do abuse other
Governments for doin' the things they do themselves. Excuse me, I'll
want her dosseer back, sir, when you've done with it.
MR MARCH. Yes, yes. [He turns, rubbing his hands at the cleared table]
Well, that seems all right! And you can do hair?
FAITH. Oh! Yes, I can do hair. [Again that little soft look, and smile
so carefully adjusted.]
MR MARCH. That's important, don't you think, Mary? [MARY, accustomed to
candour, smiles dubiously.] [Brightly] Ah! And cleaning plate? What
about that?
FAITH. Of course, if I had the opportunity--
MARY. You haven't--so far?
FAITH. Only tin things.
MR MARCH. [Feeling a certain awkwardness] Well, I daresay we can find
some for you. Can you--er--be firm on the telephone?
FAITH.
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