JOHNNY. Well--say we do; otherwise you'll admit there isn't such a thing as civilisation at all. But why do we keep them? For instance, why don't we make Mary and Mother work for us like Kafir women? We could lick them into it. Why did we give women the vote? Why free slaves; why anything decent for the little and weak? MR MARCH. Well, you might say it was convenient for people living in communities. JOHNNY. I don't think it's convenient at all. I should like to make Mary sweat. Why not jungle law, if there's nothing in chivalry. MR MARCH. Chivalry is altruism, Johnny. Of course it's quite a question whether altruism isn't enlightened self-interest! JOHNNY. Oh! Damn! The lank and shirt-sleeved figure of MR BLY, with a pail of water and cloths, has entered, and stands near the window, Left. BLY. Beg pardon, Mr March; d'you mind me cleanin' the winders here? MR MARCH. Not a bit. JOHNNY. Bankrupt of ideals. That's it! MR BLY stares at him, and puts his pail down by the window. MARY has entered with her father's writing materials which she puts on a stool beside him. MARY. Here you are, Dad! I've filled up the ink pot. Do be careful! Come on, Johnny! She looks curiously at MR BLY, who has begun operations at the bottom of the left-hand window, and goes, followed by JOHNNY. MR MARCH. [Relighting his pipe and preparing his materials] What do you think of things, Mr Bly? BLY. Not much, sir. MR MARCH. Ah! [He looks up at MR BLY, struck by his large philosophical eyes and moth-eaten moustache] Nor I. BLY. I rather thought that, sir, from your writin's. MR MARCH. Oh! Do you read? BLY. I was at sea, once--formed the 'abit. MR MARCH. Read any of my novels? BLY. Not to say all through--I've read some of your articles in the Sunday papers, though. Make you think! MR MARCH. I'm at sea now--don't see dry land anywhere, Mr Bly. BLY. [With a smile] That's right. MR MARCH. D'you find that the general impression? BLY. No. People don't think. You 'ave to 'ave some cause for thought. MR MARCH. Cause enough in the papers. BLY. It's nearer 'ome with me. I've often thought I'd like a talk with you, sir. But I'm keepin' you. [He prepares to swab the pane.] MR MARCH. Not at all. I enjoy it. Anything to put off work. BLY. [Looking at MR MARCH, then giving a wipe at the window] What's drink to one is drought to another. I've seen two men take a drink out of the same can--one die of it and the other get off with a pain in his stomach. MR MARCH. You've seen a lot, I expect. BLY. Ah! I've been on the beach in my day. [He sponges at the window] It's given me a way o' lookin' at things that I don't find in other people. Look at the 'Ome Office. They got no philosophy. MR MARCH. [Pricking his ears] What? Have you had dealings with them? BLY. Over the reprieve that was got up for my daughter. But I'm keepin' you.