FAITH follows him with her eyes as he goes out, and resumes the clearing of the table. She has paused and is again smelling at the flower when she hears the door, and quickly resumes her work. It is MRS MARCH, who comes in and goes to the writing table, Left Back, without looking at FAITH. She sits there writing a cheque, while FAITH goes on clearing. MRS MARCH. [Suddenly, in an unruffled voice] I have made your cheque out for four pounds. It's rather more than the fortnight, and a month's notice. There'll be a cab for you in an hour's time. Can you be ready by then? FAITH. [Astonished] What for--ma'am? MRS MARCH. You don't suit. FAITH. Why? MRS MARCH. Do you wish for the reason? FAITH. [Breathless] Yes. MRS MARCH. Cook saw you just now. FAITH. [Blankly] Oh! I didn't mean her to. MRS MARCH. Obviously. FAITH. I--I-- MRS MARCH. Now go and pack up your things. FAITH. He asked me to be a friend to him. He said he was lonely here. MRS MARCH. Don't be ridiculous. Cook saw you kissing him with p--p-- FAITH. [Quickly] Not with pep. MRS MARCH. I was going to say "passion." Now, go quietly. FAITH. Where am I to go? MRS MARCH. You will have four pounds, and you can get another place. FAITH. How? MRS MARCH. That's hardly my affair. FAITH. [Tossing her head] All right! MRS MARCH. I'll speak to your father, if he isn't gone. FAITH. Why do you send me away--just for a kiss! What's a kiss? MRS MARCH. That will do. FAITH. [Desperately] He wanted to--to save me. MRS MARCH. You know perfectly well people can only save themselves. FAITH. I don't care for your son; I've got a young--[She checks herself] I--I'll leave your son alone, if he leaves me. MRS MARCH rings the bell on the table. [Desolately] Well? [She moves towards the door. Suddenly holding out the flower] Mr March gave me that flower; would you like it back? MRS MARCH. Don't be absurd! If you want more money till you get a place, let me know. FAITH. I won't trouble you. She goes out. MRS MARCH goes to the window and drums her fingers on the pane. COOK enters. MRS MARCH. Cook, if Mr Bly's still here, I want to see him. Oh! And it's three now. Have a cab at four o'clock. COOK. [Almost tearful] Oh, ma'am--anybody but Master Johnny, and I'd 'ave been a deaf an' dummy. Poor girl! She's not responsive, I daresay. Suppose I was to speak to Master Johnny? MRS MARCH. No, no, Cook! Where's Mr Bly? COOK. He's done his windows; he's just waiting for his money. MRS MARCH. Then get him; and take that tray. COOK. I remember the master kissin' me, when he was a boy. But then he never meant anything; so different from Master Johnny. Master Johnny takes things to 'eart. MRS MARCH. Just so, Cook. COOK. There's not an ounce of vice in 'im. It's all his goodness, dear little feller. MRS MARCH. That's the danger, with a girl like that.