Mr. Pim Passes By Part 4

DINAH. Yes, you do,

BRIAN. Yes.

GEORGE. And you propose to experimenting with my niece?

BRIAN (_with a shrug_). Well, of course, if you--

OLIVIA. You could help the experiment, darling, by giving Dinah a good allowance until she's twenty-one.

GEORGE. Help the experiment! I don't _want_ to help the experiment.

(_Crossing up to writing-table_.)

OLIVIA (_apologetically_). Oh, I thought you did.

GEORGE. You will talk as if I was made of money. What with taxes always going up and rents always going down, it's as much as we can do to rub along as we are (_to back of_ L.C. _table_), without making allowances to everybody who thinks she wants to get married. (_To_ BRIAN.) And that's thanks to you, my friend.

BRIAN (_surprised_). To me?

OLIVIA. You never told me, darling. What's Brian been doing?

DINAH (_indignantly_). He hasn't been doing anything.

GEORGE (_round to foot of table_ L.C.). He's one of your Socialists who go turning the country upside down.

OLIVIA. But even Socialists must get married sometimes.

GEORGE (_crossing below_ OLIVIA _to fireplace_). I don't see any necessity.

OLIVIA. But you'd have n.o.body to d.a.m.n after dinner, darling, if they all died out.

BRIAN (_coming a little_ C.). Really, sir, I don't see what my politics and my art have got to do with it. I'm perfectly ready not to talk about either when I'm in your house, and as Dinah doesn't seem to object to them----

DINAH (_moving towards_ BRIAN _and championing him_). I should think she doesn't.

GEOEOE. Oh, you can get round the women, I daresay.

BRIAN. Well, it's Dinah I want to marry and live with. So what it really comes to is that you don't think I can support a wife.

GEORGE. Well, if you're going to do it by selling pictures, I don't think you can.

BRIAN (_moving to_ R. _of table_ L.C.). All right, tell me how much you want me to earn in a year, and I'll earn it.

GEORGE (_hedging_). It isn't merely a question of money. I just mention that as one thing--one of the important things. (GEORGE _crosses to_ BRIAN _who backs towards_ DINAH.) In addition to that, I think you are both too young to marry. (DINAH _stamps her foot_.) I don't think you know your own minds (DINAH _kneels dejectedly on settee_ R.), and I am not at all persuaded that, with what I venture to call your outrageous tastes----

DINAH. Oh!

GEORGE You and my niece will live happily together. (_Pause. Crossing up to writing-table, sits_.) Just because she thinks she loves you, Dinah may persuade herself now that she agrees with all you say and do, but she has been properly brought up in an honest English country household-- (DINAH _throws up her arms and buries her face in her hands on piano_) and--er--she--well, in short, I cannot at all approve of any engagement between you. (_Getting up_.) Olivia, if this Mr.--er--Pim comes, I shall be down at the farm You might send him along to me.

(_He walks towards the windows up_ L.)

BRIAN (_moving up_ R., _followed by_ DINAH; _indignantly_). Is there any reason why I shouldn't marry a girl who has been properly brought up?

GEORGE. I think you know my views, Strange.

(DINAH, _disappointed, crosses down_ R. _again to below table_ R.C.)

OLIVIA. George, wait a moment, dear. We can't quite leave it like this.

GEORGE. I have said all I want to say on the subject.

(DINAH _sits on settee_ R.)

OLIVIA. Yes, darling, but I haven't begun to say all that _I_ want to say on the subject.

GEORGE (_crossing down to back of table_ L.C.). Of course, if you have anything to say, Olivia, I will listen to it; but I don't know that this is quite the time--(OLIVIA _makes a marked movement as she is sewing the curtains_), or that you have chosen--(_looking darkly at the curtains_)-- quite the occupation likely to--er--endear your views to me.

DINAH (_mutinously, rising quickly and crossing to stool on which she kneels and looks up into_ GEORGE'S _face and bangs the table_). I may as well tell you, Uncle George, that I have got a good deal to say, too.

(BRIAN _crosses down to her_ R., _gingerly pulling her sleeve, trying to restrain her_.)

OLIVIA. Yes, darling. I can guess what you are going to say, Dinah, and I think you had better keep it for the moment.

DINAH (_meekly, backing to_ R. _below_ BRIAN _and to_ L. _of table_ R.C.). Yes, Aunt Olivia.

OLIVIA. Brian, you might take her outside for a walk. I expect you have plenty to talk about.

(BRIAN _and_ DINAH _move up_ R.)

GEORGE (_following them up_). Now mind, Strange, no love-making. I put you on your honour about that.

BRIAN (_looking round dubiously at_ DINAH). I'll do my best to avoid it, sir.

DINAH (_cheekily_). May I take his arm if we go up a hill?

OLIVIA. I'm sure you'll know how to behave--both of you.

BRIAN (R. _of writing-table_). Come on, then, Dinah.

DINAH (_following him_). Right-o. (_They exeunt through windows and off to_ L.)

GEORGE (_as they go_). And if you do see any clouds, Strange, take a good look at them. (_He chuckles to himself_.) Triangular clouds--I never heard of such nonsense. (_He goes back to his chair at the writing-table and sits_.) Futuristic rubbish... Well, Olivia?

OLIVIA (_sewing curtains_). Well, George?

GEORGE. What are you doing?

OLIVIA. Making curtains--(_grunt of disapproval from_ GEORGE)--George.

Won't they be rather sweet? Oh, but I forgot--you don't like them.