BLY. Winders! There they are! Clean, dirty! All sorts--All round yer!
Winders!
FAITH. [With disgust] Food!
BLY. Ah! Food and winders! That's life!
FAITH. Eight times a day four times for them and four times for us.
I hate food!
She puts a chocolate into her mouth.
BLY. 'Ave some philosophy. I might just as well hate me winders.
FAITH. Well!
She begins to clear.
BLY. [Regarding her] Look 'ere, my girl! Don't you forget that there
ain't many winders in London out o' which they look as philosophical as
these here. Beggars can't be choosers.
FAITH. [Sullenly] Oh! Don't go on at me!
BLY. They spoiled your disposition in that place, I'm afraid.
FAITH. Try it, and see what they do with yours.
BLY. Well, I may come to it yet.
FAITH. You'll get no windows to look out of there; a little bit of a
thing with bars to it, and lucky if it's not thick glass. [Standing
still and gazing past MR BLY] No sun, no trees, no faces--people don't
pass in the sky, not even angels.
BLY. Ah! But you shouldn't brood over it. I knew a man in Valpiraso
that 'ad spent 'arf 'is life in prison-a jolly feller; I forget what
'e'd done, somethin' bloody.
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