Mr. Pim Passes By Part 17

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 Ma.r.s.eilles a few days ago----

GEORGE (_scratching his head_). Yes, I see--I see. Well, we can soon put that right. (_Moving to_ L.) A registry office in London. Better go up this afternoon. We can't do these things too quickly--we can stay at an hotel.

OLIVIA (_pointedly_). You and Mrs. Telworthy! (_Moves slowly round back of settee_ L.)

(GEORGE _moves to centre_.)

GEORGE (_nonplussed_). Oh--er--yes--yes--perhaps I'd better stay at my Club--yes! It will be a bit awkward at first. (_With a sigh of relief_.) However, n.o.body need know, and how much better than what we feared!

(OLIVIA _comes down to below settee_ L.)

GEORGE (_advancing to embrace her_). Olivia! Olivia!

(_She repulses him and he crosses to her_ L.)

OLIVIA. Mrs. Telworthy!

GEORGE. Yes--yes, I know, but why do you keep on saying it? What's the matter with you? You're so strange to-day. You're not like the Olivia I know.

OLIVIA (_sits on settee to_ R.). Perhaps you don't know me so very well, after all.

GEORGE (_sitting--affectionately to her_ L.). Oh, that's nonsense--old girl. You're just my Olivia. Now we can get married again quietly and n.o.body will be any the worse.

OLIVIA. Married again! Oh, I see, you want me to marry you at a registry office to-morrow?

GEORGE. If we can arrange it by then. (_Rising and crossing below_ OLIVIA _to centre_.) I don't know how long these things take, but I should imagine there would be no difficulty.

OLIVIA. Oh, no, I think that part of it ought to be quite _easy_. But-- (_She hesitates_.)

GEORGE. But what?

OLIVIA. Well, if you want to marry me to-morrow, George, oughtn't you to propose to me first?

GEORGE (_amazed_). Propose?

OLIVIA. Yes. It is usual, isn't it, to propose to a person before you marry her? And--and we want to do the usual thing, don't we?

GEORGE (_upset_). But you--I mean we--

OLIVIA. You are George Marden, I am Olivia Telworthy, you are attracted by me and think I would make you a good wife, and you want to marry me-- very well, then, naturally you propose to me first.

GEORGE (_falling into the humour of it, as he thinks, and with a hearty laugh moves to below stool_ L.C.). The baby! Did she want to be proposed to all over again?

OLIVIA (_coyly_). Well, she did rather.

GEORGE (_rather fancying himself as an actor, he adopts what he considers to be an appropriate att.i.tude_). She shall then. Er--ah, Mrs. Telworthy, I have long admired you in silence, and the time has now come to put my admiration into words (_but apparently he finds a difficulty_)--er--er--

OLIVIA (_looking up at him quizzically and prompting him into words; repeating_). I--I--(_Looking down coyly_.) Oh, Mr. Marden!

(GEORGE _roars with laughter and crosses to centre_.)

GEORGE (_returning to her_). Olivia--er--may I call you Olivia?

OLIVIA. Yes, George.

(OLIVIA _puts out her hand and_ GEORGE _notices it_.)

GEORGE. I beg your pardon! Oh, I see. (_Taking her hand in his he gives it a good slap and she winces_.) Olivia, I--(_Hesitates_.)

OLIVIA. I don't want to interrupt, but oughtn't you to be on your knees?

It is--usual, I believe. GEORGE. Really, Olivia, you must allow me to manage my own proposal in my own way.

OLIVIA (_meekly--and resuming her coyness_). I'm sorry. Do go on.

GEORGE. Well--er--confound it, Olivia, I love you. Will you marry me?