CONRAD. If I could count on nine hundred and sixty years I could make myself a real biologist, instead of what I am now: a child trying to walk. Are you sure you might not become a good clergyman if you had a few centuries to do it in? HASLAM. Oh, theres nothing much the matter with _me_: it's quite easy to be a decent parson. It's the Church that chokes me off. I couldnt stick it for nine hundred years. I should chuck it. You know, sometimes, when the bishop, who is the most priceless of fossils, lets off something more than usually out-of-date, the bird starts in my garden. FRANKLYN. The bird? HASLAM. Oh yes. Theres a bird there that keeps on singing 'Stick it or chuck it: stick it or chuck it'--just like that--for an hour on end in the spring. I wish my father had found some other shop for me. _The parlor maid comes back._ THE PARLOR MAID. Any letters for the post, sir? FRANKLYN. These. [_He proffers a basket of letters. She comes to the table and takes them_]. HASLAM [_to the maid_] Have you told Mr Barnabas yet? THE PARLOR MAID [_flinching a little_] No, sir. FRANKLYN. Told me what? HASLAM. She is going to leave you? FRANKLYN. Indeed? I'm sorry. Is it our fault, Mr Haslam? HASLAM. Not a bit. She is jolly well off here. THE PARLOR MAID [_reddening_] I have never denied it, sir: I couldnt ask for a better place. But I have only one life to live; and I maynt get a second chance. Excuse me, sir; but the letters must go to catch the post. [_She goes out with the letters._] _The two brothers look inquiringly at Haslam._ HASLAM. Silly girl! Going to marry a village woodman and live in a hovel with him and a lot of kids tumbling over one another, just because the fellow has poetic-looking eyes and a moustache. CONRAD [_demurring_] She said it was because she had only one life. HASLAM. Same thing, poor girl! The fellow persuaded her to chuck it; and when she marries him she'll have to stick it. Rotten state of things, I call it. CONRAD. You see, she hasnt time to find out what life really means. She has to die before she knows. HASLAM [_agreeably_] Thats it. FRANKLYN. She hasnt time to form a well-instructed conscience. HASLAM [_still more cheerfully_] Quite. FRANKLYN. It goes deeper. She hasnt time to form a genuine conscience at all. Some romantic points of honor and a few conventions. A world without conscience: that is the horror of our condition. HASLAM [_beaming_] Simply fatuous. [_Rising_] Well, I suppose I'd better be going. It's most awfully good of you to put up with my calling. CONRAD [_in his former low ghostly tone_] You neednt go, you know, if you are really interested. HASLAM [_fed up_] Well, I'm afraid I ought to--I really must get back--I have something to do in the-- FRANKLYN [_smiling benignly and rising to proffer his hand_] Goodbye. CONRAD [_gruffly, giving him up as a bad job_] Goodbye. HASLAM. Goodbye. Sorry--er--