FAITH. No; one with a scent to it.

BLY. I'll ask at Mrs Bean's round the corner.

She'll pick 'em out from what's over. Never 'ad much nose for a
flower meself. I often thought you'd like a flower when you was
in prison.

FAITH. [A little touched] Did you? Did you really?

BLY. Ah! I suppose I've drunk more glasses over your bein' in there
than over anything that ever 'appened to me. Why! I couldn't relish the
war for it! And I suppose you 'ad none to relish. Well, it's over. So,
put an 'eart into it.

FAITH. I'll try.

BLY. "There's compensation for everything," 'Aigel says. At least, if
it wasn't 'Aigel it was one o' the others. I'll move on to the study
now. Ah! He's got some winders there lookin' right over the country.
And a wonderful lot o' books, if you feel inclined for a read one of
these days.

COOK'S Voice. Faith!

FAITH sets down the salt cellar in her hand, puts her tongue out a
very little, and goes out into the hall. MR BLY is gathering up his
pail and cloths when MR MARCH enters at the window.