oticed that before sometimes. Do you think Olivia and your
uncle have quarrelled because of _us_?

DINAH. Of course not. George may _think_ he has quarrelled, but I'm
quite sure Olivia hasn't. No, I believe Mr. Pim's at the bottom of it.
He's brought some terribly sad news about George's investments. The
old home will have to be sold up.

BRIAN. Good. Then your uncle won't mind your marrying me.

DINAH. Yes, darling, but you must be more dramatic about it than that.
"George," you must say, with tears in your eyes, "I cannot pay off the
whole of the mortgage for you. I have only two and ninepence; but at
least let me take your niece off your hands." Then George will thump
you on the back and say gruffly, "You're a good fellow, Brian, a damn
good fellow," and he'll blow his nose very loudly, and say, "Confound
this cigar, it won't draw properly." (She gives us a rough impression
of GEORGE doing it.)

BRIAN. Dinah, you're a heavenly idiot. And you've simply got to marry
me, uncles or no uncles.

DINAH. It will have to be "uncles," I'm afraid, because, you see, I'm
his ward, and I can get sent to Chancery or Coventry or somewhere
beastly, if I marry without his consent. Haven't _you_ got anybody who
objects to your marrying _me_?

BRIAN. Nobody, thank Heaven.

DINAH. Well, that's rather disappointing of you. I saw myself
fascinating your aged father at the same time that you were
fascinating George. I should have done it much better than you. As a
George-fascinator you aren't very successful, sweetheart.

BRIAN. What am I like as a Dinah-fascinator?

DINAH. Plus six, darling.

BRIAN. Then I'll stick to that and leave George to Olivia.

DINAH. I expect she'll manage him all right. I have great faith in
Olivia. But you'll marry me, anyhow, won't you, Brian?

BRIAN. I will.

DINAH. Even if we have to wait till I'm twenty-one?

BRIAN. Even if we have to wait till you're fifty-one.

DINAH (holding out her hands to him). Darling!

BRIAN (uneasily). I say, don't do that.

DINAH. Why not?

BRIAN. Well, I promised I wouldn't kiss you.

DINAH. Oh! . . . Well, you might just _send_ me a kiss. You can look the
other way as if you didn't know I was here.

BRIAN. Like this?

(He looks the other way, kisses the tips of his fingers, and flicks it
carelessly in her direction.)

DINAH. That was a lovely one. Now here's one coming for you.

(He catches it gracefully and conveys it to his mouth.)

BRIAN (with a