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. 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.
Pages:
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47