FAITH takes the tray from the sideboard and begins to clear the table, mainly by the light of nature. After a glance, MR MARCH looks out of the window and drums his fingers on the uncleaned pane. MR BLY goes on with his cleaning. MARY, after watching from the hearth, goes up and touches her father's arm.
MARY. [Between him and MR BLY who is bending over his bucket, softly]
You're not watching, Dad.
MR MARCH. It's too pointed.
MARY. We've got to satisfy mother.
MR MARCH. I can satisfy her better if I don't look.
MARY. You're right.
FAITH has paused a moment and is watching them. As MARY turns, she resumes her operations. MARY joins, and helps her finish clearing, while the two men converse.
BLY. Fine weather, sir, for the time of year.
MR MARCH. It is. The trees are growing.
BLY. All! I wouldn't be surprised to see a change of Government before long. I've seen 'uge trees in Brazil without any roots—seen 'em come down with a crash.