(LADY MARDEN _gazes at_ BRIAN _in amazement_, GEORGE _in anger_. OLIVIA
_presses his hand gratefully. He has said what she has been waiting--oh,
so eagerly--for_ GEORGE _to say_. GEORGE _rises and goes angrily up to_
BRIAN, _who defies him_. GEORGE _is subdued and moves helplessly up_ C.
_followed by_ BRIAN, _who is still defiant_. DINAH _rises and runs up_ L.
_and round back of settee_ L. _and up to left of_ BRIAN _and takes his
arm_.)
DINAH (_adoringly_). Oh, Brian! (_In a loud whisper_.) It _is_ me, isn't
it, and not Olivia?
BRIAN. You baby, of course!
LADY MARDEN. I'm afraid, Mr. Strange (DINAH _with an exclamation of
annoyance comes down to_ L. _of settee_ L.), your morals are as peculiar
as your views on Art.
BRIAN (_down to back of table_ L.C.). This is not a question of morals or
of art, it's a question of love.
DINAH. Hear, hear!
LADY MARDEN (_to_ GEORGE). Isn't it that girl's bed-time yet?
OLIVIA (_to_ DINAH _and taking her hand_). We'll let her sit up a little
longer if she's good.
DINAH. I will be good, Olivia (_aggressively to_ LADY MARDEN), only I
thought anybody, however important a debate was, was allowed to say
"Hear, hear!"
GEORGE (_coming down_ C.). Really, Olivia, I really think we could
discuss this better if Mr. Strange took Dinah out for a walk. Strange, If
you--er----
OLIVIA. Tell them what you have settled first, George.
LADY MARDEN. Settled? What is there to be settled? It settles itself.
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