This isn't my hat at all. (_Puts_ GEORGE'S _cap down on table again_.)
No, that isn't my hat. (_Takes his own hat from_ GEORGE.) This is my hat.
Good-bye! (_Shakes hands_.) Thank you so much. (_Looking at cap on
table_.) Oh, no! Oh, no! (_Moves nearer to door_ R.) Telworthy... I
_think_ that was the name.
(_Exit doors_ R.)
(LADY MARDEN, _annoyed at_ PIM'S _stupidity, comes down to_ L. _of_
GEORGE.)
GEORGE (_turning to_ LADY MARDEN _and with a sigh of thankfulness_).
Well, this is wonderful news, Aunt Julia.
LADY MARDEN. Most providential. Well, I must be getting along now,
George. Say good-bye to Olivia for me.
GEORGE (_crossing towards double-doors as if to open them_). Good-bye,
Aunt Julia.
LADY MARDEN. No! No! I'll go this way--(_going up to_ L. _of writing-
table_)--and get Olivia out more, George. I don't like these hysterics.
(_Banging writing-table_.) You want to be firmer with her.
GEORGE. Yes! Yes! Good-bye.
LADY MARDEN (_going off up_ L.). Good-bye.
GEORGE (_back again down centre and with great thankfulness_). Dead!
Dead! (_Moves down to below settee_ L.)
(OLIVIA _enters from staircase, watching him and coming quietly to_ C.)
GEORGE (_approaching her enthusiastically_). Olivia! Olivia! (_Is about
to embrace her, but she restrains him_.)
OLIVIA (_drawing herself up_). Mrs. Telworthy!
GEORGE (_taken aback_). What? Olivia! I--I don't understand.
OLIVIA. Well, darling, if my husband only died at Marseilles a few days
ago----
GEORGE (_scratching his head_).
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