_and places her coatee on balustrade_.)
GEORGE (_from up_ C.). Don't fool about asking silly questions, Dinah.
Your aunt hasn't much time.
BRIAN. May I come, too, Lady Marden?
LADY MARDEN (_coming down centre to_ BRIAN). Well, a little exercise
wouldn't do _you_ any harm, Mr. Strange. You're an artist, ain't you?
(DINAH _stops playing_.)
BRIAN. Well, I try to paint.
DINAH (_rises and moves to_ R.C.). He sold a picture last March for----
GEORGE. Yes, yes, never mind that now.
LADY MARDEN. Yes, unhealthy life. (_Going to_ R. _of writing-table and
crossing at back, turns to_ DINAH _and_ BRIAN.) Well, come along.
(_She strides out up_ L., _followed by_ DINAH _and_ BRIAN, _who upset_
GEORGE'S _papers on writing-table as they go_. OLIVIA _takes the curtains
and workbox from_ C. _cupboard of cabinet and comes down_ L.)
GEORGE (_looking up and seeing_ OLIVIA). Really, Olivia, we've got
something more important, more vital to us than curtains, to discuss, now
that we _are_ alone at last.
OLIVIA. I wasn't going to discuss them, dear. (_Sits_.)
GEORGE. Of course, I'm always glad to see Aunt Julia in my house, but I
wish she hadn't chosen this day of all days to come to lunch.
OLIVIA. It wasn't Aunt Julia's fault. It was really Mr. Pim who chose the
wrong day.
GEORGE (_fiercely and rising_). Good heavens, is it true?
OLIVIA. About Jacob Telworthy?
GEORGE. Yon told me he was dead.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53