COOK. We had a girl like her, I remember, in your dear mother's time,
Mr Geoffrey.
MR MARCH. How did she turn out?
COOK. Oh! She didn't.
MRS MARCH. There!
MR MARCH. Well, I can't bear behaving like everybody else. Don't you think we might give her a chance, Cook?
COOK. My 'eart says yes, ma'am.
MR MARCH. Ha!
COOK. And my 'ead says no, sir.
MRS MARCH. Yes!
MR MARCH. Strike your balance, Cook.