I want to see you like him. Aren't you
happy here?
FAITH. It's right enough, so long as I get out.
BLY. This Mr March--he's like all these novel-writers--thinks 'e knows
'uman nature, but of course 'e don't. Still, I can talk to 'im--got an
open mind, and hates the Gover'ment. That's the two great things. Mrs
March, so far as I see, 'as got her head screwed on much tighter.
FAITH. She has.
BLY. What's the young man like? He's a long feller.
FAITH. Johnny? [With a shrug and a little smile] Johnny.
BLY. Well, that gives a very good idea of him. They say 'es a poet;
does 'e leave 'em about?
FAITH. I've seen one or two.
BLY. What's their tone?
FAITH. All about the condition of the world; and the moon.
BLY. Ah! Depressin'. And the young lady?
FAITH shrugs her shoulders.
Um--'ts what I thought. She 'asn't moved much with the times. She
thinks she 'as, but she 'asn't. Well, they seem a pleasant family.
Leave you to yourself. 'Ow's Cook?
FAITH. Not much company.
BLY. More body than mind? Still, you get out, don't you?
FAITH. [With a slow smile] Yes. [She gives a sudden little twirl, and
puts her hands up to her hair before the mirror] My afternoon to-day.
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