MR MARCH. Not at all.
MR BLY crosses to the windows.
MARY. [Pointing to MR BLY's back] Try!
BLY. Showery, sir.
MR MARCH. Ah!
BLY. Very tryin' for winders. [Resting] My daughter givin' satisfaction, I hope?
MR MARCH. [With difficulty] Er—in her work, I believe, coming on well. But the question is, Mr Bly, do—er—any of us ever really give satisfaction except to ourselves?
BLY. [Taking it as an invitation to his philosophical vein] Ah! that's one as goes to the roots of 'uman nature. There's a lot of disposition in all of us. And what I always say is: One man's disposition is another man's indisposition.
MR MARCH. By George! Just hits the mark.
BLY. [Filling his sponge] Question is: How far are you to give rein to your disposition? When I was in Durban, Natal, I knew a man who had the biggest disposition I ever come across. 'E struck 'is wife, 'e smoked opium, 'e was a liar, 'e gave all the rein 'e could, and yet withal one of the pleasantest men I ever met.