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.
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