Books: Mr. Pim Passes By
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Alan Alexander Milne >> Mr. Pim Passes By
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6 Curtis A. Weyant, Stan Goodman, Charles Franks, and the Distributed
Proofreading Team
MR. PIM PASSES BY
A Comedy in Three Acts
by
A. A. Milne
CHARACTERS
The Original Cast at the Gaiety Theatre, Manchester
George Marden, J.P. . . . . . . . . . _Mr. Ben Webster._
Olivia (his Wife) . . . . . . . . . . _Miss Irene Vanbrugh._
Dinah (his Niece) . . . . . . . . . . _Miss Georgette Cohan._
Lady Marden (his Aunt) . . . . . . . . _Miss Sybil Carlisle._
Brian Strange . . . . . . . . . . _Mr. Philip Easton._
Carraway Pin . . . . . . . . . . _Mr. Dion Boucicault._
Anne . . . . . . . . . . _Miss Ethel Wellesley._
The action takes place in the morning-room at Marden House,
Buckinghamshire, on a day in July.
THE ORIGINAL LONDON CAST AT THE NEW THEATRE
George Marden, J.P. . . . . . . . . . _Mr. Ben Webster._
Olivia (his Wife) . . . . . . . . . . _Miss Irene Vanbrugh._
Dinah (his Niece) . . . . . . . . . . _Miss Georgette Cohan._
Lady Marden (his Aunt) . . . . . . . . _Miss Ethel Griffes._
Brian Strange . . . . . . . . . . _Mr. Leslie Howard._
Carraway Pin . . . . . . . . . . _Mr. Dion Boucicault._
Anne . . . . . . . . . . _Miss Ethel Wellesley._
MR. PIM PASSES BY
ACT I
_The morning-room at Marden House (Buckinghamshire) decided more than a
hundred years ago that it was all right, and has not bothered about
itself since. Visitors to the house have called the result such different
adjectives as "mellow," "old-fashioned," "charming"--even "baronial" and
"antique;" but nobody ever said it was "exciting." Sometimes_ OLIVIA
_wants it to be more exciting, and last week she rather let herself go
over some new curtains; she still has the rings to put on. It is obvious
that the curtains alone will overdo the excitement; they will have to be
harmonized with a new carpet and cushions._ OLIVIA _has her eye on just
the things, but one has to go carefully with_ GEORGE. _What was good
enough, for his great-great-grandfather is good enough for him. However,
we can trust_ OLIVIA _to see him through it, although it may take time._
_A scene plot is given at the end of the play._
_There are three ways of coming into the room: by the open windows
leading from the garden, by the doors to R., or by the staircase from up_
R, MR. PIM _chooses the latter way--or rather_ ANNE _chooses it for him;
and_ MR. PIM _kindly and inoffensively follows her. She comes down steps
and crosses to_ C., _followed by_ MR. PIM.
ANNE (_moves up, looking off_ L. _and returning to_ PIM R.C.). I'll tell
Mr. Marden you're here, sir. Mr. Pim, isn't it?
PIM (_nervously_). Yes--er--Mr. Pim--Mr. Carraway Pim. He doesn't know
me, you understand, but if he could just spare me a few moments--er---
(_He fumbles in his pockets_.) I gave you that letter?
ANNE. Yes, sir, I'll give it to him.
PIM (_brings out a stamped letter which is not the one he was looking
for, but which reminds him of something else he has forgotten. Looking at
letter_). Oh! Dear me!
ANNE. Yes, sir?
PIM. Dear me. I ought to have posted this. (_Looking at letter_.) Oh,
well, I must send a telegram. You have a telegraph office in the village?
ANNE. Oh, yes, sir. (_Moving up to terrace up_ L. _and pointing off_ L.)
If you turn to the left when you get outside the gates, it's about a
hundred yards down the hill. Turn to the left and down the hill.
PIM. Turn to the left and down the hill. Thank you, thank you. Very
stupid of me to have forgotten.
(ANNE _exits up staircase R_.)
(MR. PIM _wanders about the room humming to himself, and looking at the
pictures and photos on piano. Then goes out at window up_ L.) (DINAH
_enters from staircase up_ R. _dancing, and humming the air of "Down on
the Farm:" she is nineteen, very pretty, very happy, and full of boyish
high spirits and conversation. She dances to foot of stairs, looks off_
R., _then down_ C., _then to piano; sits and plays a few bars and sings
"Down on the Farm," rises and moves up to_ R. _of piano, and as she does
so_ PIM _re-enters from window up_ L. _and they come suddenly face to
face up back_ C. _below the writing-table. There is a slight pause_.)
DINAH (_backing a step_). Hullo!
PIM. You must forgive me, but... Good morning, Mrs. Marden.
DINAH. Oh, I say, _I_'m not Mrs. Marden. I'm Dinah.
PIM (_with a smile_). Then I will say, Good morning. Miss Diana.
DINAH (_reproachfully_). Now, look here, if you and I are going to be
friends, you mustn't do that. Dinah, _not_ Diana. Do remember it, there's
a good man, because I get so tired of correcting people. (_Moving down_
C. _to_ B.) Have you come to stay with us? (_Sits on settee_ R.)
PIM (_following her down_). Well, no, Miss--er--Dinah.
DINAH (_nodding_). That's right. I can see I shan't have to speak to
_you_ again. Now tell me your name, and I bet you I get it right first
time. And do sit down.
PIM (_crossing to_ L. _and sitting on settee_ L.). Thank you. My name is--
er--Pim, Carraway Pim--
DINAH. Pim, that's easy.
PIM. And I have a letter of introduction to your father--
DINAH (_rising and crossing to_ R. _of table_ L.C. _and speaking across
same_). Oh, no; now you're going wrong again, Mr. Pim. George isn't my
father; he's my uncle. Uncle George--he doesn't like me calling him
George. Olivia doesn't mind--I mean she doesn't mind being called Olivia,
but George is rather touchy. (_Sitting on table, facing_ PIM.) You see,
he's been my guardian since I was about two, and then about five years
ago he married a widow called Mrs. Telworthy.
PIM (_repeating_). Mrs. Telworthy.
DINAH. That's Olivia--so she became my Aunt Olivia, only she lets me drop
the Aunt. (_Speaking very sharply_.) Get that?
PIM (_a little alarmed_). I--I think so, Miss Marden.
DINAH (_admiringly_). I say, you _are_ quick, Mr. Pim. Well, if you take
my advice, when you've finished your business with George, you will hang
about a bit and see if you can't see Olivia. (_Rising and moving_ C.)
She's simply--(_feeling for the word_)--devastating. I don't wonder
George fell in love with her.
(_Moving to above piano_ R., _looking at photos, etc._)
PIM (_rising and looking at his watch and coming_ C.). It's only the
merest matter of business--just a few words with your uncle--Perhaps I'd
better...
DINAH (_looking at photo on top end of piano_). Well, you must please
yourself, Mr. Pim. I'm just giving you a friendly word of advice.
Naturally, I was awfully glad to get such a magnificent aunt. (_Moving
down to_ L. _of piano and taking up and looking at photo of_ OLIVIA.)
Because, after all, marriage _is_ rather a toss up, isn't it?--
PIM (_taken aback_). Well, I don't, know, I haven't had any experience...
DINAH (_continuing_). And George might have gone off with anybody.
(_Moving to_ PIM.) It's different on the stage, where guardians always
marry their wards, but George couldn't marry _me_ because I'm his niece.
Mind you, I don't say that I should have had him, because, between
ourselves, he's a little bit old-fashioned.
PIM. So he married--er--Mrs. Marden instead.
DINAH. Mrs. Telworthy--don't say you've forgotten already, just when you
were getting so good at names. Mrs. Telworthy. (_Moves to and sits on
settee_ R.) You see, Olivia married the Telworthy man and went to
Australia with him, and he drank himself to death in the bush, or
wherever you drink yourself to death out there, and Olivia came home to
England, and met my uncle, and he fell in love with her and proposed to
her--(_rises and kneels on settee_)--and he came into my room that night--
I was about fourteen--and turned on the light and said, "Dinah, how
would you like to have a beautiful aunt of your very own?" (PIM
_laughs_.) And I said: "Congratulations, George." (PIM _laughs again_.)
That was the first time I called him George. Of course, I'd seen it
coming for weeks. Telworthy, isn't it a funny name?
PIM. Oh, a most curious name--Telworthy. From Australia, you say?
DINAH. Yes, I always say that he's probably still alive, and will turn up
here one morning and annoy George.
PIM (_shocked_). Oh!
DINAH. But I'm afraid there's not much chance.
PIM (_shocked_). Miss Marden! Really!
DINAH, Well, of course, I don't really _want_ it to happen, but it
_would_ be rather exciting. (_Crossing to_ PIM.) Wouldn't it, Mr Pim?
PIM. Exciting!
(PIM _crosses to below settee_ L.)
DINAH. However, things like that never seem to occur down here, somehow,
(_Running up into window up_ R. PIM _watches her_.) There was a hayrick
burnt last year about a mile away, but that isn't the same, is it?
PIM. No, I should say that that was certainly different.
DINAH (_coming to back of table_ L.C.). Of course, something very, very
wonderful did happen last night. (_Backing away_.) No, no! I'm not sure
if I know you well enough--(_She looks at him hesitatingly_.)
PIM (_uncomfortably_). Really, Miss Marden, you mustn't. I am only a--a
passer-by, here to-day and gone to-morrow. You really mustn't--
DINAH (_looking round and earning down to_ PIM), And yet there's
something about you, Mr. Pim, which inspires confidence.
PIM (_moving to_ L.). Oh, no. Really, you mustn't tell me.
DINAH (_taking his arm_). The fact is--(_in a stage whisper_)--I got
engaged last night!
PIM. Dear me, let me congratulate you. I wish somebody would come here.
DINAH (_running up to foot of staircase up_ R. _and looking off_), I
expect that's why George is keeping you such a long time. (_Turning to_
PIM.) Brian, my young man, the well-known painter--only nobody has ever
heard of him--he's smoking a pipe with George in the library and asking
for his niece's hand. (_Coming back to_ PIM, _and taking his hands, she
dances round with him in a circle_.)
(PIM _falls exhausted and coughing on to settee_ L. _and_ DINAH _laughing
sits on settee_ R.)
DINAH. Isn't it exciting? You're really rather lucky, Mr. Pim--I mean
being told so soon. Even Olivia doesn't know yet.
PIM. Yes, yes, I congratulate you, Miss Marden. Perhaps it would be
better--(_About to get up_.)
(ANNE _comes in from staircase up_ R. _She comes to_ C.)
ANNE. Mr. Marden is out at the moment, sir--
DINAH (_disappointed_). Oh!
ANNE (_seeing_ DINAH). Oh, I didn't see you, Miss Dinah!
PIM. Out! Eh? Dear! Dear!
DINAH, It's all right, Anne. (_Rising_.) _I'm_ looking after Mr. Pim.
ANNE. Very well, Miss.
PIM (_sotto voce_). Out! Oh, well, I'd better go--
(_Exit_ ANNE _up staircase_ B.)
DINAH (_excitedy_). That's me. (_Running up to foot of staircase and
watching_ ANNE _off_.) They can't discuss me in the library without
breaking down--(_coming down_ R. _and imitating_ GEORGE _and_ BRIAN)--so
they're walking up and down outside, and slashing at the thistles in
order to conceal their emotion. You know. I expect Brian--(_Crossing up
to_ R. _of window_.)
PIM (_rising, calling_). Miss Marden! Miss Marden! (_Looking at his
watch_.) Yes, I think, Miss Marden, I had better go now and return a
little later. I have a telegram which I want to send, and perhaps by the
time I come back your uncle will be able--
DINAH (_coming to_ PIM). Oh, but how disappointing of you, when we were
getting on together so nicely! And it was just going to be your turn to
tell me all about yourself.
PIM. I have really nothing to tell, Miss Marden. I have a letter of
introduction to your uncle, who in turn will give me, I hope, a letter to
a certain distinguished man whom it is necessary for me to meet. That is
all. (_Holding out his hand_.) And now, Miss Marden, I really think I'd
better be going.
DINAH (_taking his arm and hading him up stage_ C. _to_ L.). Oh, I'll
start you on your way to the post office.
PIM. Will you? Now, that's really very kind of you.
DINAH. No, it isn't.
PIM. Oh, but it is! You're a very kind little girl.
DINAH. I want to know if you're married--
PIM. Oh, no, I'm not married.
DINAH.--and all that sort of thing. You've got heaps to tell me, Mr. Pim.
Have you got your hat? (PIM _shows his hat_.) Oh yes! That's right.
(BRIAN STRANGE _comes in from window up_ R. _He is what_ GEORGE _calls a
damned futuristic painter chap, aged 24. To look at he is a very pleasant
boy, rather untidily dressed. He is about to tell_ DINAH _the result of
his interview with_ GEORGE _when he catches sight of_ PIM.)
Then we'll--hullo, here's Brian! (_Crossing below and to his_ R. _seizing
him_.) Brian, this is Mr. Pim! Mr. Carraway Pim. He's been telling me all
about himself.
PIM. I haven't said a word. I never opened my mouth.
DINAH. It's so interesting. He's just going to send a telegram, and then
he's coming back again. Mr. Pim--(_coyly and moving down to head of
settee_ R.)--this is Brian--_you_ know,
BRIAN (_nodding_). How-do-you-do?
PIM. How-do-you-do, sir?
DINAH (_pleadingly and crossing below_ BRIAN _to_ PIM), You won't mind
going to the post office by yourself now, will you? (_Coyly moving up to
chair by writing-table and nervously kicking her ankle, etc_.) Because,
you see, Brian and I--(_She looks lovingly at_ BRIAN.)
PIM (_moved to sentiment_). Miss Dinah and Mr.--er--Brian, I have only
come into your lives for a moment, and it is probable that I shall now
pass out of them for ever, but perhaps you will permit an old man--
DINAH. Oh, not so old!
PIM (_chuckling happily_). Not old? Well, shall we say a middle-aged
man--(DINAH _nods assent_. PIM _laughs again_)--a middle-aged man to wish
you both every happiness in the years that you have before you.
(_Crossing in front of_ DINAH, _shakes hands with_ BRIAN.) Good-bye--
(_shaking hands with_ DINAH)--good-bye, and thank you so much. Oh, I know
my way. (_Moving up_ L. _and turning to_ DINAH.) Turn to the left and
down the hill? Turn to the left and down the hill.
(_Exit_ PIM _up_ L. DINAH _watches him off up_ L. _on terrace and_ BRIAN
_up_ R.)
DINAH (_coming into the room below writing-table to_ R.C.). Brian, he'll
get lost if he goes that way.
BRIAN (_crossing at back of windows and calling after him up_ L.). Round
to the left, sir. Yes, that's right. (_He comes back into the room,
crossing down_ L.C.) Rum old bird. Who is he?
DINAH. Darling, you haven't kissed me yet.
BRIAN (_moving up to her and pulling her down to below settee_ L.), Oh, I
say. I oughtn't to, but then one never ought to do the nice things.
DINAH. Why oughtn't you?
(_They sit on the sofa together--_BRIAN _to_ R., DINAH _to_ L.)
BRIAN. Well, we said we'd be good until we'd told your uncle and aunt all
about it. You see, being a guest in their house--
DINAH. But, darling child, what _have_ you been doing all this morning
_except_ telling George?
BRIAN. Oh, _trying_ to tell George.
DINAH (_nodding_). Yes, of course, there's a difference.
BRIAN. I think he _guessed_ there was something up, and he took me down
to see the pigs--he said he had to see the pigs at once--I don't know
why; an appointment perhaps. And we talked about pigs all the way, and I
couldn't say, "Talking about pigs, I want to marry your niece--"
DINAH (_with mock indignation_). Oh, of course you couldn't.
BRIAN. No. Well, you see how it was. And then when we'd finished talking
_about_ pigs, we started talking _to_ the pigs--
DINAH (_eagerly_). Oh, _how_ is Arnold?
BRIAN. Arnold...? Oh yes, that's the little black-and-white one? He's
very jolly, I believe, but naturally I wasn't thinking about him much. I
was wondering how to begin. And then Lumsden came up, and wanted to talk
pig-food, and the atmosphere grew less and less romantic, and--and I
gradually drifted away.
DINAH. Oh, poor darling! Well, we shall have to approach him through
Olivia.
BRIAN. But I always wanted to tell her first; she's so much easier. Only
_you_ wouldn't let me.
DINAH. That's _your_ fault, Brian. You would tell Olivia that she ought
to have orange-and-black curtains in here.
BRIAN. But she wants orange and black curtains in here.
DINAH. Yes. (_Rising and standing with her back to fire, imitating_
GEORGE.) But George says he's not going to have any Futuristic nonsense
in an honest English country house, which has been good enough for his
father and his grandfather and his great-grandfather, and--and all the
rest of them. (_Kneels on settee_.) So there's a sort of strained feeling
between Olivia and George just now, and if Olivia were to--sort of
recommend you, well, it wouldn't do you much good.
BRIAN (_looking at her_). I see. Of course I know what _you_ want, Dinah.
DINAH. What do I want?
BRIAN. You want a secret engagement--
DINAH. Oh!
BRIAN. And notes left under door-mats--
DINAH. Oh!
BRIAN. And meetings by the withered thorn--
DINAH. Oh!
BRIAN. When all the household is asleep.
DINAH. Oh!
BRIAN. I know you.
DINAH. Oh, but it is such fun! I love meeting people by withered thorns.
BRIAN. Well, I'm not going to have it.
DINAH (_childishly, sitting close to him_). Oh, George! Look at us being
husbandy!
BRIAN. You babe! I adore you. (_He kisses her and holds her hands_.) You
know, you're rather throwing yourself away on me. Do you mind?
DINAH (_putting her legs up on settee and reclining her head on his
shoulder_). Not a bit.
BRIAN. We shall never be rich, but we shall have lots of fun, and meet
interesting people, and feel that we're doing something worth doing, and
not getting paid nearly enough for it, and we can curse the Academy
together and the British Public, and--oh, it's an exciting life.
DINAH (_seeing it_). I shall love it.
BRIAN (_sincerely_). I'll make you love it. You shan't be sorry, Dinah.
DINAH. You shan't be sorry either, Brian.
BRIAN (_looking at her lovingly_). Oh, I know I shan't.... What will
Olivia think about it? Will she be surprised?
DINAH. Olivia? Oh, she's never surprised. She always seems to have
thought of things about half an hour before they happen. George just
begins to get hold of them about half an hour after they've happened.
(_Considering him, stroking his hair_.) After all, there's no reason why
George shouldn't like you, darling.
BRIAN. I'm not his sort, you know, really.
DINAH. You're more Olivia's sort. Well, we'll tell Olivia this morning.
(OLIVIA _comes in from top of staircase up R_.)
OLIVIA (_coming in_). And what are you going to tell Olivia this morning?
(_They jump up and go to her_.)
DINAH. Olivia, darling--
OLIVIA, Oh, well, I think I can guess,
(DINAH _goes to her_ R, _and_ BRIAN _to her_ L., _and they bring her
down_ C.)
BRIAN (_following_). Say you understand, Mrs. Marden.
OLIVIA. Mrs. Marden, I am afraid, is a very dense person, Brian, but I
think if you asked Olivia if she understood--
BRIAN. Bless you, Olivia. I _knew_ you'd be on our side.
DINAH. Of course she would.
OLIVIA. I don't know if it's usual to kiss an aunt-in-law, Brian, but
Dinah is such a very special sort of niece that--(_she inclines her cheek
and_ BRIAN _kisses it_).
DINAH (_backing away to_ B. _a little_). I say, you are in luck to-day,
Brian.
(BRIAN _moves up_ C. _laughing_.)
OLIVIA (_crossing below settee_ L. _and up_ L. _to cabinet_). And how
many people have been told the good news?
BRIAN. Nobody yet.
DINAH. Except Mr. Pim.
BRIAN (_crossing down to_ DINAH). Oh, does he--
OLIVIA (_timing as she reaches cabinet, up_ L.), Who's Mr, Pim?
DINAH. Oh, he just happened--(OLIVIA _takes curtains and work-basket from
centre cupboard of cabinet_.)--I say, are those the curtains? Then you're
going to have them after all?
OLIVIA (_with an air of surprise, coming down L., and putting work-
basket on table L.C. and sitting with curtains_). After all what? But I
decided on them long ago. (_To_ BRIAN.) You haven't told George yet.
BRIAN (_moving to below stool_ L.C.). I began to, you know, but I never
got any farther than "Er--there's just--er--"
DINAH (_crossing quickly below_ OLIVIA _and speaking into her face_).
George would talk about _pigs_ all the time.
OLIVIA. Well, I suppose you want me to help you.
DINAH (_sitting to_ L. _of_ OLIVIA). Oh, do, darling.
BRIAN (_sits on stool_ L.C.). It would be awfully decent of you. Of
course, I'm not quite his sort really--
DINAH. You're my sort.
BRIAN. But I don't think he objects to me, and--
(GEORGE _comes in from terrace, a typical, narrow-minded, honest country
gentleman of forty odd._ BRIAN _rises hurriedly and crosses to above
piano to_ R. DINAH _rises and stands by fireplace._ OLIVIA _unfolds
curtains and prepares to sew_.)
GEORGE (_at the windows--he does not see_ BRIAN). Hullo! Hullo! Hullo!
What's all this about a Mr. Pim? Who is he? Where is he? (_He puts his
cap on table, and comes down, into room_.) I had most important business
with Lumsden, and the girl comes down and cackles about a Mr, Pim, or
Ping, or something. Where did I put his card? (_Bringing it out_.)
Carraway Pim. Never heard of him in my life, (_Moves back to writing-
table and puts down card_.)
DINAH. He said he had a letter of introduction, Uncle George.
GEORGE. Oh, you saw him, did you! (_Comes down_ C. _to_ R.) Yes, that
reminds me, there was a letter--(_he brings it out and reads it_).
DINAH. He had to send a telegram. He's coming back.
OLIVIA. Pass me those scissors, Brian.
BRIAN (_crossing to above table_ L.C.). These? (_he passes them_.)
OLIVIA (_giving_ BRIAN _a nod of encouragement and looking round at_
DINAH). Thank you.
GEORGE (_reading_). Ah well, a friend of Brymer's, Glad to oblige him.
Yes, I know the man he wants. Coming back, you say, Dinah? (DINAH
_nods_.) Then I'll be going back too. Send him down to the farm, Olivia,
when he comes. (_Going up meets_ BRIAN.) Hallo, what happened to you?
(_Still moving up a little_.)
OLIVIA. Don't go, George, there's something we want to talk about. (DINAH
_gives a long whistle. All look sheepish and_ GEORGE _notices their
attitude_.)
GEORGE. Hallo, what's this?
BRIAN (_quickly and over back of i.e. table to_ OLIVIA). Shall I---!
(DINAH _pantomimes. "Yes, do."_)
OLIVIA (_with a roguish loot at_ DINAH). Yes, (_Sticks needle in work_.)
BRIAN (_stepping out to_ C.) I've been wanting to tell you all this
morning, sir, only I didn't seem to have an opportunity of getting it
out.
GEORGE. Well, what is it?
(BRIAN, _taken aback for a moment, looks to_ OLIVIA _for encouragement.
She nods approval and turning to_ DINAH, _takes her hand encouragingly--
_)
BRIAN (_boldly_). I want to marry Dinah, sir.
GEORGE. You want to marry Dinah? God bless my soul!
DINAH (_rushing to him below and to his_ R. _and pulling her cheek
against his coat, and her hands on his shoulder_). Oh, do say you like
the idea, Uncle George.
GEORGE. Like the idea! (_Taking her hands from his shoulder_.) Have you
heard of this nonsense, Olivia?
(_Movement of annoyance from_ DINAH.)
OLIVIA. They've just this moment told me, George. I think they would be
happy together.
GEORGE (_crossing to fire-place_ L., _to_ BRIAN). And what do you propose
to be happy together on?
BRIAN (R.C.). Well, of course, I know it doesn't amount to much at
present, but we shan't starve.
DINAH. Brian got fifty pounds for a picture last March!
GEORGE (_a little upset by this_). Oh! (_Recovering gamely_.) And how
many pictures have you sold since?
BRIAN (_gives a nervous look at_ OLIVIA _and_ DINAH, _who then sits on
settee_ R.). Well, none, but--
GEORGE. None! And I don't wonder. Who the devil is going to buy pictures
with triangular clouds and square sheep? (BRIAN, _annoyed, moves up_
R.C.) And they call that Art nowadays! Good God, man (_moving up to the
windows_), go outside and look at the clouds!
OLIVIA (_busy stitching rings on curtains_). If he draws round clouds in
future, George, will you let him marry Dinah?
(GEORGE _looks round, annoyed._ BRIAN _is hopeful and comes down towards_
DINAH.)
GEORGE (_upset by this, coming down to head of_ L.C. _table_). What--
what? Yes, of course, you would be on his side--all this Futuristic
nonsense. (OLIVIA _commences to sew_.) I'm just taking these clouds as an
example. (_Crossing to_ BRIAN.) I suppose I can see as well as any man in
the county, and I say that clouds aren't triangular.
BRIAN (_ingratiatingly_). After all, sir, at my age one is naturally
experimenting, and trying to find one's (_with a laugh)_--well, it sounds
priggish, but one's medium of expression. I shall find out what I want to
do directly, but I think I shall always be able to earn enough to live
on. Well, I have for the last three years.
GEORGE. I see, and now you want to experiment with a wife--
BRIAN. Yes--no--no--
DINAH. Yes, you do,
BRIAN. Yes.
GEORGE. And you propose to experimenting with my niece?
BRIAN (_with a shrug_). Well, of course, if you--
OLIVIA. You could help the experiment, darling, by giving Dinah a good
allowance until she's twenty-one.
GEORGE. Help the experiment! I don't _want_ to help the experiment.
(_Crossing up to writing-table_.)
OLIVIA (_apologetically_). Oh, I thought you did.
GEORGE. You will talk as if I was made of money. What with taxes always
going up and rents always going down, it's as much as we can do to rub
along as we are (_to back of_ L.C. _table_), without making allowances to
everybody who thinks she wants to get married. (_To_ BRIAN.) And that's
thanks to you, my friend.
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