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aitch. There's a balance abart 'im that I like. There's no doubt the Christian religion went too far. Turn the other cheek! What oh! An' this Anti-Christ, Neesha, what came in with the war--he went too far in the other direction. Neither of 'em practical men. You've got to strike a balance, and foller it. MR MARCH. Balance! Not much balance about us. We just run about and jump Jim Crow. BLY. [With a perfunctory wipe] That's right; we 'aven't got a faith these days. But what's the use of tellin' the Englishman to act like an angel. He ain't either an angel or a blond beast. He's between the two, an 'ermumphradite. Take my daughter----If I was a blond beast, I'd turn 'er out to starve; if I was an angel, I'd starve meself to learn her the piano. I don't do either. Why? Becos my instincts tells me not. MR MARCH. Yes, but my doubt is whether our instincts at this moment of the world's history are leading us up or down. BLY. What is up and what is down? Can you answer me that? Is it up or down to get so soft that you can't take care of yourself? MR MARCH. Down. BLY. Well, is it up or down to get so 'ard that you can't take care of others? MR MARCH. Down. BLY. Well, there you are! MARCH. Then our instincts are taking us down? BLY. Nao. They're strikin' a balance, unbeknownst, all the time. MR MARCH. You're a philosopher, Mr Bly. BLY. [Modestly] Well, I do a bit in that line, too. In my opinion Nature made the individual believe he's goin' to live after'e's dead just to keep 'im livin' while 'es alive--otherwise he'd 'a died out. MR MARCH. Quite a thought--quite a thought! BLY. But I go one better than Nature. Follow your instincts is my motto. MR MARCH. Excuse me, Mr Bly, I think Nature got hold of that before you. BLY. [Slightly chilled] Well, I'm keepin' you. MR MARCH. Not at all. You're a believer in conscience, or the little voice within. When my son was very small, his mother asked him once if he didn't hear a little voice within, telling him what was right. [MR MARCH touches his diaphragm] And he said "I often hear little voices in here, but they never say anything." [MR BLY cannot laugh, but he smiles] Mary, Johnny must have been awfully like the Government. BLY. As a matter of fact, I've got my daughter here--in obeyance. MR MARCH. Where? I didn't catch. BLY. In the kitchen. Your Cook told me you couldn't get hold of an 'ous
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