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I do the winders here? MR MARCH. Not at all. MR BLY crosses to the windows. MARY. [Pointing to MR BLY's back] Try! BLY. Showery, sir. MR MARCH. Ah! BLY. Very tryin' for winders. [Resting] My daughter givin' satisfaction, I hope? MR MARCH. [With difficulty] Er--in her work, I believe, coming on well. But the question is, Mr Bly, do--er--any of us ever really give satisfaction except to ourselves? BLY. [Taking it as an invitation to his philosophical vein] Ah! that's one as goes to the roots of 'uman nature. There's a lot of disposition in all of us. And what I always say is: One man's disposition is another man's indisposition. MR MARCH. By George! Just hits the mark. BLY. [Filling his sponge] Question is: How far are you to give rein to your disposition? When I was in Durban, Natal, I knew a man who had the biggest disposition I ever come across. 'E struck 'is wife, 'e smoked opium, 'e was a liar, 'e gave all the rein 'e could, and yet withal one of the pleasantest men I ever met. MR MARCH. Perhaps in giving rein he didn't strike you. BLY. [With a big wipe, following his thought] He said to me once: "Joe," he said, "if I was to hold meself in, I should be a devil." There's where you get it. Policemen, priests, prisoners. Cab'net Ministers, any one who leads an unnatural life, see how it twists 'em. You can't suppress a thing without it swellin' you up in another place. MR MARCH. And the moral of that is--? BLY. Follow your instincts. You see--if I'm not keepin' you--now that we ain't got no faith, as we were sayin' the other day, no Ten Commandments in black an' white--we've just got to be 'uman bein's-- raisin' Cain, and havin' feelin' hearts. What's the use of all these lofty ideas that you can't live up to? Liberty, Fraternity, Equality, Democracy--see what comes o' fightin' for 'em! 'Ere we are-wipin' out the lot. We thought they was fixed stars; they was only comets--hot air. No; trust 'uman nature, I say, and follow your instincts. MR MARCH. We were talking of your daughter--I--I-- BLY. There's a case in point. Her instincts was starved goin' on for three years, because, mind you, they kept her hangin' about in prison months before they tried her. I read your article, and I thought to meself after I'd finished: Which would I feel smallest--if I was--the Judge, the Jury, or the 'Ome Secretary? It was a treat, that article! They ought t
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