Yes, dear, that was what I thought about--about--(_laughing to
herself_) what I was doing.
GEORGE. Then you will come up to London to-morrow?
(_She nods_.)
And if we should see a carpet or anything else we want----
OLIVIA. Oh, George!
GEORGE (_beaming, rising and backing away to_ L. _a little_). And lunch
at the Carlton, what?
OLIVIA (_nodding eagerly_). Oh!
GEORGE. And--and a bit of a honeymoon in Paris?
OLIVIA. Oh, what fun!
GEORGE (_hungrily_). Give me a kiss, old girl.
OLIVIA (_lovingly_). George!
(_She holds up her cheek to him. He kisses it, and then suddenly takes
her in his arms_.)
GEORGE. Don't ever leave me, old girl.
OLIVIA (_affectionately_). Don't ever send me away, old boy.
GEORGE (_fervently_). I won't. (_Awkwardly_.) I--I don't think I _should
have_ really, you know. I--I----
(DINAH _enters from up_ L. _and crosses at back of writing-table and
round down_ R. BRIAN _follows her_.)
DINAH (_seeing the embrace, surprised_). Oo--I say!
(GEORGE _looks and feels rather a fool_.)
GEORGE. Hallo!
(OLIVIA _sits, resumes sewing_.)
DINAH (_coming down centre and going below settee_ L., _impetuously to
him_). Give me one, too, George. Brian won't mind.
GEORGE (_formally, but enjoying it_). Do you mind, Mr. Strange?
BRIAN (_a little uncomfortable_). Oh, I say, sir----
GEORGE. We'll risk it, Dinah. (_He kisses her_.)
DINAH (_triumphantly to_ BRIAN _and standing above_ GEORGE).
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