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But she'll never settle to that weavin'. Her head got turned a bit. MR MARCH. I'm afraid I'm in the dark, Mr Bly. BLY. [Pausing--dipping his sponge in the pail and then standing with it in his hand] Why! Don't you remember the Bly case? They sentenced 'er to be 'anged by the neck until she was dead, for smotherin' her baby. She was only eighteen at the time of speakin'. MR MARCH. Oh! yes! An inhuman business! BLY. All! The jury recommended 'er to mercy. So they reduced it to Life. MR MARCH. Life! Sweet Heaven! BLY. That's what I said; so they give her two years. I don't hold with the Sunday Mercury, but it put that over. It's a misfortune to a girl to be good-lookin'. MR MARCH. [Rumpling his hair] No, no! Dash it all! Beauty's the only thing left worth living for. BLY. Well, I like to see green grass and a blue sky; but it's a mistake in a 'uman bein'. Look at any young chap that's good-lookin'--'e's doomed to the screen, or hair-dressin'. Same with the girls. My girl went into an 'airdresser's at seventeen and in six months she was in trouble. When I saw 'er with a rope round her neck, as you might say, I said to meself: "Bly," I said, "you're responsible for this. If she 'adn't been good-lookin'--it'd never 'eve 'appened." During this speech MARY has come in with a tray, to clear the breakfast, and stands unnoticed at the dining-table, arrested by the curious words of MR BLY. MR MARCH. Your wife might not have thought that you were wholly the cause, Mr Bly. BLY. Ah! My wife. She's passed on. But Faith--that's my girl's name--she never was like 'er mother; there's no 'eredity in 'er on that side. MR MARCH. What sort of girl is she? BLY. One for colour--likes a bit o' music--likes a dance, and a flower. MARY. [Interrupting softly] Dad, I was going to clear, but I'll come back later. MR MARCH. Come here and listen to this! Here's a story to get your blood up! How old was the baby, Mr Bly? BLY. Two days--'ardly worth mentionin'. They say she 'ad the 'ighstrikes after--an' when she comes to she says: "I've saved my baby's life." An' that's true enough when you come to think what that sort o' baby goes through as a rule; dragged up by somebody else's hand, or took away by the Law. What can a workin' girl do with a baby born under the rose, as they call it? Wonderful the difference money makes when it comes to bein' outside th
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