Father! You've been drinking.
BLY. [Smiling] What do you think.
MR MARCH. We have a certain sympathy with you, Mr Bly.
BLY. [Gazing at his daughter] I don't want that one. I'll take the
other.
MARY. Don't repeat yourself, Mr Bly.
BLY. [With a flash of muddled insight] Well! There's two of everybody;
two of my daughter; an' two of the 'Ome Secretary; and two-two of Cook
--an' I don't want either. [He waves COOK aside, and grasps at a void
alongside FAITH] Come along!
MR MARCH. [Going up to him] Very well, Mr Bly! See her home, carefully.
Good-night!
BLY. Shake hands!
He extends his other hand; MR MARCH grasps it and turns him round
towards the door.
MR MARCH. Now, take her away! Cook, go and open the front door for Mr
Bly and his daughter.
BLY. Too many Cooks!
MR MARCH. Now then, Mr Bly, take her along!
BLY. [Making no attempt to acquire the real FAITH--to an apparition
which he leads with his right hand] You're the one that died when my girl
was 'ung. Will you go--first or shall--I?
The apparition does not answer.
MARY. Don't! It's horrible!
FAITH. I did die.
BLY. Prepare yourself. Then you'll see what you never saw before.
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