Mr. Pim Passes By: A Comedy in Three Acts

by A. A. Milne

Act II

Scene.–The same scene and furniture with addition of a camp table and five camp chairs outside on terrace at back centre. Lunch is over. Lady Marden's whip and gloves are on writing-table.

(Anne enters with coffee for five on salver, from double doors R., and is about to place it on table L.C. when Olivia, who follows her on, says:)

Olivia. We'll have coffee on the terrace, Anne.

Anne. Very good, madam. (Moves up L. and places salver on camp table on terrace.)

(Lady Marden follows Olivia from double doors R. Anne crosses at back of windows to R.)

Olivia. We'll have coffee on the terrace, Aunt Julia.

(Lady Marden crosses in front of Olivia and up L. through windows and sits R. at back of camp table. George follows Lady Marden, meets Olivia, and both throw up their arms despairingly. Olivia crosses up L. through windows and sits to L. of camp table. Dinah and Brian follow George on.)

(Anne exits at doors R.)

(George turns, and seeing Dinah is annoyed, follows Olivia up L. and sits L. of Lady Marden.)

Dinah (to Brian). I know Aunt Julia likes a little music.

(Dinah comes down to piano and takes up small guitar. Brian crosses to L., laughing at her. She goes up L. of writing-table, playing and singing, and crosses round back of writing-table and sits to R. of camp table, Brian follows her and stands with his back to windows. George and Lady Marden are annoyed with Dinah's playing, and tell her to stop, and she does so. Olivia pours milk into Dinah's cup and Brian passes it to her; she drinks and then commences to play again and is stopped by looks from Lady Marden and George.)

Lady Marden (to Dinah). No! No! Don't do it!

Olivia. Your aunt does not like it, dear.

(George and Olivia want to be alone, so do Brian and Dinah. At last Brian murmurs something about a cigarette-case, and catching Dinah's eye, comes into the room. He leans against the sofa down L. and waits for her.)

Dinah (loudly, as she comes in strumming on guitar). Have you found it?

Brian. Found what?

Dinah (in her ordinary voice, crossing quickly down to Brian). That was just for their benefit. I said I'd help you find it. It is your cigarette-case we're looking for, isn't it?

Brian (taking it out). Yes. Have one?

Dinah. No, thank you, darling. (Brian goes up R. in smoking-table for a match.) Aunt Juli-ah still thinks it's unladylike.... Have you ever seen her beagling? (Comes down to piano, puts down instrument.)

Brian. No. Is that very ladylike?

Dinah (sitting on settee R.). Very.... I say, what has happened, do you think?

Brian (moving down to back of table R.C.). Everything. I love you, and you love me.

Dinah. Silly! I meant between George and Olivia. Didn't you notice them at lunch?

Brian (sits on table). I noticed that you seemed to be doing most of the talking. But then I've noticed 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 (Dinah beckons to Brian, who comes and sits above her), I believe Mr. Pim's at the bottom of it. He's brought some terribly sad news about George's investments. (Rising and facing Brian.) The old home will have to be sold up.

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

Dinah (by table above settee R.). 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 (hitting him on the shoulder) thump you on the back and say gruffly (crossing to L.), "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."

Brian (rising and crossing to Dinah). Dinah, you're a heavenly idiot. And you've simply got to marry me, uncles or no uncles.

Dinah. Hush! (She takes his hand and they sit on settee L., hiding from others at back). 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 (kissing her hand). 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! (Rising and crossing to C., watching the others at back). 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. She pretends to catch it, kissing her own hands.)

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

(She throws him a kiss. He catches it gracefully and conveys it to his mouth.)

Brian (rising, and with a low bow). Madam, I thank you.

Dinah (curtsying). Your servant, Mr. Strange,

Olivia (rising from outside). Dinah!

Dinah (jumping up). Hullo! (Moving quickly to piano, plays "Mickey.")

(Brian throws away his cigarette and walks to L.)

(Olivia comes in through the window up L., followed by George and Lady Marden, the latter a vigorous young woman of sixty odd, who always looks as if she were beagling.)

Olivia (coming down to Dinah above piano). Aunt Julia wants to see the pigs, dear. I wish you'd take her down. I'm rather tired, and your uncle has some business to attend to.

(George sits in chair up C. in front of writing-table.)

Lady Marden (moving down C.), I've always said that you don't take enough exercise, Olivia. (Turning to others.) Look at me–sixty-five and proud of it. (Goes up R. and takes up gloves and riding-whip from writing-table.)

Olivia (taking off her coatee). Yes, Aunt Julia, you're wonderful.

Dinah. How old would Olivia be if she took exercise?

(Olivia, smiling, but with an admonishing look at Dinah, comes up R. and places her coatee on balustrade.)

George (from up C.). Don't fool about asking silly questions, Dinah. Your aunt hasn't much time.

Brian. May I come, too, Lady Marden?

Lady Marden (coming down centre to Brian). Well, a little exercise wouldn't do you any harm, Mr. Strange. You're an artist, ain't you?

(Dinah stops playing.)

Brian. Well, I try to paint.

Dinah (rises and moves to R.C.). He sold a picture last March for——

George. Yes, yes, never mind that now.

Lady Marden. Yes, unhealthy life. (Going to R. of writing-table and crossing at back, turns to Dinah and Brian.) Well, come along.

(She strides out up L., followed by Dinah and Brian, who upset George's papers on writing-table as they go. Olivia takes the curtains and workbox from C. cupboard of cabinet and comes down L.)

George (looking up and seeing Olivia). Really, Olivia, we've got something more important, more vital to us than curtains, to discuss, now that we are alone at last.

Olivia. I wasn't going to discuss them, dear. (Sits.)

George. Of course, I'm always glad to see Aunt Julia in my house, but I wish she hadn't chosen this day of all days to come to lunch.

Olivia. It wasn't Aunt Julia's fault. It was really Mr. Pim who chose the wrong day.

George (fiercely and rising). Good heavens, is it true?

Olivia. About Jacob Telworthy?

George. Yon told me he was dead. (Moving down to L. of L.C. table.) You always said that he was dead.

Olivia. Well, I always thought that he was dead. He was as dead as anybody could be. All the papers said he was dead.

George (scornfully). The papers!(Crossing up to smoking-table for his pipe.)

Olivia (as if this would settle it for George). The Times said he was dead. There was a paragraph about him. Apparently even his death was fraudulent.

George (coming down C.). Yes, yes, I'm not blaming you, Olivia, but what are we going to do, that's the question, what are we going to do? My God, it's horrible! (Crossing to fireplace.) You've never been married to me at all! You don't seem to understand.

Olivia. It is a little difficult to realize. You see, it doesn't seem to have made any difference to our happiness.

George. No, that's what's so terrible. (Olivia looks up surprised.) I mean–well, of course, we were quite innocent in the matter. (Sits in arm-chair down L.) But, at the same time, nothing can get over the fact that we–we had no right to–to be happy.

Olivia. Would you rather we had been miserable?

George. You're Telworthy's wife, that's what you don't seem to understand. You're Telworthy's wife. You–er–forgive me, Olivia, but it's the horrible truth–you committed bigamy when you married me. (In horror, going up L.) Bigamy! (Coming round to C.)

Olivia. It is an ugly word, isn't it?

George. Yes, but you don't understand. (Coming quickly down C., sits on stool L.C., facing her.) Look here, Olivia, old girl, the whole thing is nonsense, eh? It isn't your husband, it's some other Telworthy that this fellow met. That's right, isn't it? Some other shady swindler who turned up on the boat, eh? This sort of thing doesn't happen to people like us–committing bigamy and all that. Some other fellow.

Olivia (shaking her head). I knew all the shady swindlers in Sydney.... They came to dinner.... There were no others called Telworthy.

George (rising with gesture of despair). Well, what are we going to do?

Olivia. You sent Mr. Pim away so quickly. He might have told us things. Telworthy's plans. Where he is now. You hurried him away so quickly.

George. I've sent a note round to ask him to come back. My one idea at the moment was to get him out of the house–to hush things up. (Going up to writing-table.)

Olivia. You can't hush up two husbands.

George (in despair). You can't. (Sits at writing-table.) Everybody will know. Everybody!

Olivia. The children, Aunt Julia, they may as well know now as later. Mr. Pim must, of course.

George. I do not propose to discuss my private affairs with Mr. Pim——

Olivia. But he's mixed himself up in them rather, hasn't he, and if you're going to ask him questions——

George. I only propose to ask him one question. I shall ask him if he is absolutely certain of this fellow's name. I can do that quite easily without letting him know the reason for my inquiry.

Olivia. You couldn't make a mistake about a name like Telworthy. But he might tell us something about Telworthy's plans. Perhaps he's going back to Australia at once. Perhaps he thinks I'm dead, too. Perhaps–oh, there are so many things I want to know.

George. Yes, yes, dear. It would be interesting to–that is, one naturally wants to know these things, but of course it doesn't make any real difference. Olivia (surprised). No difference?

George (rising and coming down to back of settee L.). Well, that is to say, you're as much his wife if he's in Australia as you are if he's in England.

Olivia. I am not his wife at all. (Shaking her head.) Jacob Telworthy may be alive, but I am not his wife. I ceased to be his wife when I became yours.

George. You never were my wife. (Annoyed and crossing to R. and back again to L.C.) That is the terrible part of it. Our union–you make me say it, Olivia–has been unhallowed by the Church. Unhallowed even by the Law. Legally, we have been living in–living in–well, the point is, how does the Law stand? I imagine that Telworthy could get a–a divorce.... Oh, it seems impossible that things like this can be happening to us. (Going up C.)

Olivia. A divorce?

George. I–I imagine so.

Olivia. But then we could really get married, and we shouldn't be living in–living in–whatever we were living in before.

George (coming down to R. of table L.C.). I can't understand you, Olivia. You talk about it so calmly, as if there was nothing blameworthy in being divorced.

Olivia. Yes, but——

George. As if there was nothing unusual in my marrying a divorced woman.

Olivia. Yes, but——

George. As if there was nothing wrong in our having lived together for years without having been married.

Olivia (placing her hands on table). What seems wrong to me is that I lived for five years with a bad man whom I hated. What seems right to me is that I lived for five years with a good man whom I love.

George (taking and patting her hands affectionately). Yes, yes, my dear, I know. (Drops her hands and moves to C.) But right and wrong don't settle themselves as easily as that. We've been living together when you were Telworthy's wife. That's wrong.

Olivia. Do you mean wicked?

George. Well, no doubt the Court would consider that we acted in perfect innocence——

Olivia. What Court?

George. Well, you see, my dear, these things have to be done legally, of course. (Moving to R. to settee, thinking it out.) I believe the proper method is a nullity suit, declaring our marriage null and–er–void. It would, so to speak, wipe out these years of–er—(Moving back to C.)

Olivia. Wickedness?

George. Of irregular union, and-er–then——

Olivia. Then I could go back to Jacob.... Do you really mean that, George?

George (uneasily). Well, dear, you see-that's how things are–one can't get away from–er——–

Olivia. What you feel is that Telworthy has the greater claim? You are prepared to–make way for him?

George. Both the Church and the Law would say that I had no claim at all, I'm afraid. I–I suppose I haven't.

Olivia. I see. (She looks at him curiously.) Thank you for making it so clear, George.

George. Of course, whether or not you go back to–er–Telworthy is another matter altogether. (Crossing to fireplace.) That would naturally be for you to decide.

Olivia (cheerfully). For me and Jacko to decide.

George. Er–Jacko?

Olivia. I used to call my first husband–I mean my only husband–Jacko. I didn't like the name of Jacob, and Jacko seemed to suit him somehow. (Enjoying the joke.) He had very long arms. (George is very annoyed.) Poor Jacko.

George (annoyed). You don't seem to realize that this is not a joke, Olivia.

Olivia (still amused). It may not be a joke, but it is funny, isn't it?

George. I must say I don't see anything funny in a tragedy that has wrecked two lives.

Olivia. Two? Oh, but Jacko's life isn't wrecked. It has just been miraculously restored to him. And a wife, too. There's nothing tragic for Jacko in it.

George (stiffly). I was referring to our two lives–yours and mine.

Olivia. Yours, George? Your life isn't wrecked. The Court will absolve you of all blame; your friends will sympathize with you, and tell you that I was a designing woman who deliberately took you in; your Aunt Julia–

George (overwrought). Stop it! (Crossing over to her.) What do you mean? Have you no heart? (Olivia gives a little hurt cry.) Do you think I want to lose you, Olivia? (Sits on her L.) Do you think I want my home broken up like this? Haven't you been happy with me these last five years?

Olivia. Very happy.

George. Well then, how can you talk like that?

Olivia. But you want to send me away,

George. There you go again. I don't want to. I have hardly had time to realize just what it will mean to me when you go. The fact is I simply daren't realize it. I daren't think about it.

Olivia. Try thinking about it, George.

George. And you talk as if I wanted to send you away!

Olivia. Try thinking about it, George.

George. You don't seem to understand that I'm not sending you away. You simply aren't mine to keep.

Olivia. Whose am I?

George (dubiously). Your husband's. Telworthy's.

Olivia (gently). If I belong to anybody but myself, I think I belong to you.

George. Not in the eyes of the Law. Not in the eyes of the Church. Not even in the eyes of–er——

Olivia. The County?

George (annoyed). I was about to say "Heaven."

Olivia. Oh!

George (rising and crossing below Olivia to C.). That this should happen to us!

(Olivia works in silence. Then she shakes out her curtains.)

Olivia (looking at them). I do hope Jacko will like these.

George (turning and seeing curtains). What! You——(Going up to her quickly and taking her by the hands raises her from the settee.) Olivia, Olivia, have you no heart?

Olivia. Ought you to talk like that to another man's wife?

George. Confound it, is this just a joke to you?

Olivia. You must forgive me, George; I am a little over-excited–at the thought of returning to Jacob.

George. Do you want to return to him?

Olivia. One wants to do what is right. In the eyes of–er–Heaven.

George. Seeing what sort of a man he is, I have no doubt that you could get a separation, supposing that he didn't–er–divorce you. I don't know what is best. I must consult my solicitor. The whole position has been sprung on us, and (miserably sits on stool L.C.) I don't know, I don't know. I can't take it all in. (Leaning forward and burying his face in his hands.)

Olivia. Wouldn't you like to consult your Aunt Julia too? She could tell you what the County–I mean what Heaven really thought about it.

George. Yes, yes. Aunt Julia has plenty of common sense. You're quite right, Olivia. This isn't a thing we can keep from the family.

Olivia. Do I still call her Aunt Julia?

(Anne comes in from staircase up R. George does not see her, but Olivia attracts his attention.)

George (looking up at Olivia). What? What? (Rising and crossing up to Anne.) Well, what is it?

Anne. Mr. Pim says he will come down at once, sir.

George. Oh, thank you, thank you.

(Olivia picks up curtains. Anne goes out up staircase up R.)

Olivia. George, Mr. Pim has got to know.

George. I don't see the necessity.

Olivia. Not even for me? When a woman suddenly hears that her long-lost husband is restored to her, don't you think she wants to ask questions? Where is he living, and how is he looking, and–

George (very angry, going to writing-table, sits). Of course, if you are interested in these things–

Olivia. How can I help being? Don't be so silly, George. (Moves up to R. of George with the curtains on her arm.) We must know what Jacko–

George (annoyed) I wish you wouldn't call him by that ridiculous name.

Olivia. My husband–

George (wincing). Yes, well–your husband?

Olivia. Well, we must know his plans–where we can communicate with him, and so on.

George. I have no wish to communicate with him.

Olivia. I'm afraid you'll have to, dear.

George. I don't see the necessity.

Olivia. Well, you'll want to–to apologize to him for living with his wife for so long. (George looks up and round at her nonplussed). And as I belong to him, he ought to be told where he can–call for me.

George (after a struggle and scratching his head). You put it in a very peculiar way, but I see your point. (With a shudder.) Oh, the horrible publicity of it all! (Turns away and leans on writing-table.)

Olivia (going up to him and comforting him, placing her hands on his shoulders). Poor George. Dear, don't think I don't sympathize with you. I understand so exactly what you are feeling. The publicity! It's terrible.

George (miserably and turning in his chair to her). I want to do what's right. You believe that, don't you?

Olivia. Of course I do. (Taking her hands away.) It's only that we don't quite agree as to what is right and what is wrong.

George. It isn't a question of agreeing. Right is right, and wrong is wrong, all the world over.

Olivia (with a sad little smile). But more particularly in Buckinghamshire, I think.

George. If I only considered myself, I should say: "Let us pack this man Telworthy back to Australia. He would make no claim. He would accept money to go away and say nothing about it." If I consulted simply my own happiness, Olivia, that, is what I should say. But when I consult–er–

Olivia (with great feeling). Mine?

George. My conscience——

Olivia (disappointed). Oh!

George. Then I can't do it. (Rises and is going up L.) It's wrong.

Olivia (making her first appeal). Yes; but, George, don't you think I'm worth a little–

George (turning round, seeing Dinah coming). H'sh! Dinah! (Moves back to writing-table. Loudly for Dinah's benefit.) Well, then I'll write to him and–Ah, Dinah, where's Aunt Julia?

Dinah (coming in from up L.). We've seen the pigs, and now she's discussing the Art of Landseer with Brian. (Crossing in front of writing-table to Olivia.) I just came to ask–

Olivia. Dinah, dear, bring Aunt Julia here. And Brian too. We have things we want to talk about with you all.

Dinah. Right-o! (Moves back up L.)

George (outraged). Olivia!

Dinah (turning on terrace). What fun!

(Olivia goes to table L.C. and picks up her work-box. Exit Dinah L.)

George. Olivia, you don't seriously suggest that we should discuss these things with a child like Dinah and a young man like Strange, a mere acquaintance.

Olivia. Dinah will have to know. I'm very fond of her, George. You can't send me away without telling Dinah. And Brian is my friend. (Moving to cabinet, puts curtains and work-box on top of cabinet.) You have your solicitor and your aunt and your conscience to consult–mayn't I even have Brian?

George (forgetting). I should have thought that your husband–

Olivia (coming down to L. back end of settee L.). Yes, but we don't know where Jacko is.

George. I was not referring to–er–Telworthy.

Olivia. Well then?

George. Oh, of course–You–naturally I–Oh, this is horrible! (Sits with his face in his hands at writing-table.)

(Olivia is about to speak to him as Lady Marden enters from up L. Lady Marden looks at George, then moves down to centre. Dinah follows and comes to L. back end of settee. Brian follows Dinah and comes to back of table L.C. Olivia moves round to L. end of settee L.)

Olivia (after a pause). George and I have had some rather bad news, Aunt Julia. We wanted your advice. Where will you sit?

Lady Marden. Thank you, Olivia. I can sit down by myself.

(She does so, on lower end of settee R., moving cushion away.)

Olivia (to Dinah). You sit there, my darling.

(Dinah sits in arm-chair down L. and Olivia on settee L. There is a good pause. All are looking very uncomfortable.)

Lady Marden. Well, what is it?

(Another pause. All are still looking very uncomfortable.)

Money, I suppose; nobody's safe nowadays.

(There is another good pause. George looks up hopelessly at Lady Marden. Brian moves up inquisitively towards George, who turns and gradually raising his head catches sight of Brian and gives him a severe look and Brian retreats quickly to back of L.C. table.)

George (signalling for help). Olivia——

Olivia (after a pause). We've just heard that my first husband is still alive.

Dinah. Telworthy!

Brian. Good Lord!

Lady Marden. George!

Dinah (excitedly). And only this morning I was saying that nothing ever happened in this house! (Rising from arm-chair and sitting to L. of Olivia and remorsefully to her.) Darling, I don't mean that. Darling one!

Lady Marden. What does this mean, George? I leave you for ten minutes–barely ten minutes–to go and look at the pigs, and when I come back you tell me that Olivia is a bigamist.

(Dinah jumps up and moves to L. of settee L.)

Brian (indignantly advancing towards Lady Marden). I say——

Olivia (restraining him). H'sh!

Brian (to Olivia and taking her hand across table L.C.). If this is a row, I'm on your side.

Lady Marden. Well, George?

George (rising and coming down to Lady Marden). I'm afraid it's true, Aunt Julia. (Taking stool from L.C. to C., sits on it. Dinah sits in arm-chair down L.) We heard the news just before lunch–just before you came. We've only this moment had an opportunity of talking about it, of wondering what to do.

Lady Marden. What was his name——Tel–something——

Olivia. Jacob Telworthy.

Lady Marden (in amazement). So he's alive still?

George. Apparently. There seems to be no doubt about it.

Lady Marden (to Olivia). Didn't you see him die? I should always want to see my husband die before I married again. Not that I approve of second marriages, anyhow. I told you so at the time, George.

Olivia. And me, Aunt Julia.

Lady Marden. Did I? Well, I generally say what I think.

George. I ought to tell you, Aunt Julia, that no blame attaches to Olivia over this. Of that I am perfectly satisfied. It's nobody's fault, except——

Lady Marden. Except Telworthy's. He seems to have been rather careless. Well, what are you going to do about it?

George. That's just it. It's a terrible situation (With a gesture of despair.) There's bound to be so much publicity. Not only all this, but–but Telworthy's past.

Lady Marden. I should have said that it was Telworthy's present which, was the trouble. Had he a past as well?

Olivia. He was a fraudulent company promoter. He went to prison a good deal.

(General consternation. Brian gives a long whistle and goes up.)

Lady Marden. George, you never told me this!

George. I–er——

Olivia. I don't see why he should want to talk about it.

Dinah (indignantly rising and moving to L. end of settee L.). What's it got to do with Olivia, anyhow? It's not her fault.

Lady Marden (sarcastically and emphatically). Oh, no, I daresay it's mine.

(There is an uncomfortable pause.)

Olivia (to George). You wanted to ask Aunt Julia what was the right thing to do.

Brian (crossing down L.C. and bursting out). Good Heavens, what is there to do except the one and only thing? (They all look at him and he becomes embarrassed and backs up stage a little.) I'm sorry. You don't want me to——

Olivia (taking his hand across table L.C.). I do, Brian.

Lady Marden. Well, go on, Mr. Strange. What would you do in George's position?

Brian (crosses down to back of table L.C.). Do? Say to the woman I loved, "You're mine (bangs table with his fist), and let this other damned fellow come and take you from me if he can!" And he couldn't–how could he?–not if the woman chose me.

(Lady Marden gazes at Brian in amazement, George in anger. Olivia presses his hand gratefully. He has said what she has been waiting–oh, so eagerly–for George to say. George rises and goes angrily up to Brian, who defies him. George is subdued and moves helplessly up C. followed by Brian, who is still defiant. Dinah rises and runs up L. and round back of settee L. and up to left of Brian and takes his arm.)

Dinah (adoringly). Oh, Brian! (In a loud whisper.) It is me, isn't it, and not Olivia?

Brian. You baby, of course!

Lady Marden. I'm afraid, Mr. Strange (Dinah with an exclamation of annoyance comes down to L. of settee L.), your morals are as peculiar as your views on Art.

Brian (down to back of table L.C.). This is not a question of morals or of art, it's a question of love.

Dinah. Hear, hear!

Lady Marden (to George). Isn't it that girl's bed-time yet?

Olivia (to Dinah and taking her hand). We'll let her sit up a little longer if she's good.

Dinah. I will be good, Olivia (aggressively to Lady Marden), only I thought anybody, however important a debate was, was allowed to say "Hear, hear!"

George (coming down C.). Really, Olivia, I really think we could discuss this better if Mr. Strange took Dinah out for a walk. Strange, If you–er——

Olivia. Tell them what you have settled first, George.

Lady Marden. Settled? What is there to be settled? It settles itself.

George (sadly). That's just it.

Lady Marden. The marriage must be annulled–is that the word, George?

George. I presume so. (Sits on stool C.)

Lady Marden. One's solicitor will know all about that, of course.

Brian. And when the marriage has been annulled, what then?

Lady Marden. Presumably Olivia will return to her husband.

Brian (bitterly to Lady Marden). And that's morality! As expounded by Bishop Landseer!

George (angered, rising and facing Brian). I don't know what you mean by Bishop Landseer. Morality is acting in accordance with the Laws of the Land and the Laws of the Church. I am quite prepared to believe that your creed embraces neither marriage (Dinah gives a little cry and bangs a cushion on settee angrily) nor monogamy, but my creed is different.

Brian (fiercely). My creed includes both marriage and monogamy, and monogamy means sticking to the woman you love, as long as she wants you.

Lady Marden (calmly). You suggest that George and Olivia should go on living together, although they have never been legally married. Bless the man, what do you think the County would say?

Brian (scornfully). Does it matter?

Dinah. Well, if you really want to know, the men would say, "Gad, she's a fine woman; I don't wonder he sticks to her," and the women would say, "I can't think what he sees in her to stick to her like that," and they'd both say, "After all, he may be a damn fool, but you can't deny he's a sportsman."

(Lady Marden is very indignant.)

George (indignantly). Was it for this sort of thing Olivia, that you insisted on having Dinah and Mr. Strange in here? To insult me in my own house?

Lady Marden. I can't think what young people are coming to nowadays.

Olivia. I think, dear, you and Brian had better go.

Dinah (getting up). We will go. (Crossing below Olivia and putting her knee on stool and looking cheekily up into George's face.) But I'm just going to say one thing, Uncle George. Brian and I are going to marry each other, and when we are married we'll stick to each other, however many of our dead husbands and wives turn up! Come on, Brian. (She goes up C. and through window and goes out indignantly, followed by Brian R.)

(George follows them up.)

George. Upon my word, this is a pleasant discussion.

Olivia. I think the discussion is over, George. It is only a question of where I shall go, while you are bringing your–what sort of suit did you call it?

Lady Marden (to George). Nullity suit. I suppose that is the best thing?

George. It's horrible. (Moving down between stool and Lady Marden.) The awful publicity. That it should be happening to us, that's what I can't get over.

Lady Marden. I don't remember anything of the sort in the Marden Family before, ever.

George (absently). Lady Fanny.

Lady Marden (recollecting). Yes, of course; but that was two hundred years ago. The standards were different then. (Rising and going up C. to R.) Besides, it wasn't quite the same, anyhow.

George (absently). No, it wasn't quite the same.

Lady Marden (R. of writing-table). No. We shall all feel it. Terribly.

George (his apology). If there were any other way! Olivia, what can I do? It is the only way, isn't it? All that that fellow said–of course, it sounds very well–but as things are.... (Crossing towards Olivia.) Is there anything in marriage, or isn't there? You believe that there is, don't you? You aren't one of these Socialists. Well, then, can we go on living together when you're another man's wife? It isn't only what people will say, but it is wrong, isn't it?.... And supposing he doesn't divorce you, are we to go on living together, unmarried, for ever? (Lady Marden turns and listens.) Olivia, you seem to think that I'm just thinking of the publicity–what people will say. I'm not. I'm not. That comes in any way. But I want to do what's right, what's best. I don't mean what's best for us, what makes us happiest, I mean what's really best, what's rightest. What anybody else would do in my place. (Olivia holds out her hands lovingly towards him.) I don't know. It's so unfair. You're not my wife at all, but I want to do what's right.... (Sits foot of table L.C.) Oh, Olivia, Olivia, you do understand, don't you?

(They have both forgotten Lady Marden. Olivia has never taken her eyes off him as he makes his last attempt to convince himself.)

Olivia (almost tenderly). So very, very well, George. Oh, I understand just what you are feeling. And oh, I do so wish that you could–(with a little sigh)–but then it wouldn't be George, not the George I married–(with a rueful little laugh)–or didn't quite marry.

Lady Marden. I must say, I think you are both talking a little wildly.

Olivia (repeating it, oh, so tenderly). Or didn't–quite–marry.

(She looks at him with all her heart in her eyes. She is giving him his last chance to say "Damn Telworthy; you're mine!" He rises and crosses to R. He struggles desperately with himself, turns to Olivia.)

George. Olivia! Olivia! My darling!

(She rises. He crosses to her and takes her in his arms.)

(Anne enters from double doors R.)

Anne. Mr. Pim is here, sir.

Olivia (prompting him). Mr. Pim, dear.

George (emerging from the struggle with an effort). Pim? Pim? Oh, ah, yes, of course. (Crossing up to Anne.) Mr. Pim. (Looking up.) Where have you put him?

Olivia. I want to see Mr. Pim, too, George.

Lady Marden (coming down C. to R. of table L.C.). Who on earth is Mr. Pim?

Olivia. Show him in here, Anne. (George comes back to C.)

Anne. Yes, madam.

(She goes out double doors R.)

Olivia. It was Mr. Pim who told us about my husband. He came across with him in the boat, and recognized him as the Telworthy he knew in Australia.

Lady Marden. Oh! Shall I be in the way? (Moving down to R.C.)

George. No, no. It doesn't matter, does it, Olivia?

Olivia. Please stay.

(Lady Marden sits R. settee.)

(Anne enters at double doors followed by Mr. Pim.)

Anne. Mr. Pim.

George (pulling himself together). Ah, Mr. Pim! Very good of you to have come.

Pim. Oh, not at all!

George. The fact is–er–(It is too much for him; he looks despairingly at Olivia.)

Olivia. We're so sorry to trouble you, Mr. Pim. By the way, do you know Lady Marden?

Pim (centre). No, I haven't the honour.

George (introducing). My Aunt! Mr. Pim.

(Mr. Pim and Lady Marden bow to each other.)

Olivia. Do come and sit down, won't you? (Pim is moving to L., turns and bumps into George, who is following him. She makes room for him on the sofa next to her.) The fact is, Mr. Pim, you gave us rather a surprise this morning, and before we had time to realize what it all meant, you had gone.

Pim. A surprise, Mrs. Marden? Dear me, not an unpleasant one, I hope?

Olivia. Well, rather a–surprising one. (Lady Marden coughs.)

(Pim sits to R. of Olivia, who takes his hat and places it to her L.)

George (turns to Lady Marden). Olivia, allow me a moment. Mr. Pim, you mentioned a man called Telworthy this morning. My wife used to (Lady Marden gives a pronounced cough)–that is to say, I used to–that is, there are reasons–

Olivia. I think we had better be perfectly frank, George.

Lady Marden (aggressively). I am sixty-five years of age, Mr. Pim, and I can say that I've never had a moment's uneasiness by (beating her knee with her hand, stick in left hand) telling the truth.

(Pim and Lady Marden fix each other with a look. Pim then looks at Olivia and George and leans back on settee.)

Pim (after a desperate effort to keep up with the conversation). Oh!... I–er–I'm afraid I am rather at sea. Have I–er–left anything unsaid in presenting my credentials to you this morning?

George and Olivia Oh, no!

Pim. This Telworthy whom you mention–I seem to remember the name–

Olivia. Mr. Pim, you told us this morning of a man whom you had met on the boat, a man who had come down in the world, whom you had known in Sydney. A man called Telworthy.

Pim (relieved). Ah, yes, yes, of course. (To Olivia.) I did say Telworthy, didn't I? Most curious coincidence, Lady Marden. Poor man, poor man! Let me see, it must have been ten years ago–

George. Just a moment, Mr. Pim. You're quite sure that his name was Telworthy?

Pim (to George). Telworthy–Telworthy–didn't I say Telworthy? Yes, that was it–Telworthy. Poor fellow!

Olivia. I'm going to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Pim. I feel quite sure that I can trust you.

Pim. Oh, Mrs. Marden!

Olivia. This man Telworthy whom you met is my husband.

Pim. Your husband! (He looks in mild surprise at George.) Your–er——

Olivia. My first husband. His death was announced six years ago. I had left him some years before that, but there seems no doubt from your story that he's still alive. His record–the country he comes from–above all, the very unusual name–Telworthy.

Pim. Telworthy–yes–certainly a most peculiar name. I remember saying so. Your first husband? Dear me! Dear me!

George. You understand, Mr. Pim, that all this is in absolute confidence.

Pim (turning to George). Of course, of course.

Olivia (pulling his arm, trying to attract his attention). Well, since he is my husband, we naturally want to know something about him. Where is he now, for instance?

Pim (surprised and turning to Olivia). Where is he now? But surely I told you? I told you what happened at Marseilles?

George. At Marseilles?

Pim (to George). Yes, yes, poor fellow, it was most unfortunate. (To Lady Marden. Olivia again pulls his arm, trying to attract his attention.) You must understand, Lady Marden, that although I had met the poor fellow before in Australia, I was never in any way intimate——

George (thumping the desk). Where is he now, that's what we want to know?

(Mr. Pim turns to him with a start.)

Olivia. Please, Mr. Pim!

Pim (to Olivia). Where is he now? But–but didn't I tell you of the curious fatality at Marseilles–poor fellow–the fish-bone?

All. Fish-bone?

Pim. Yes, yes, a herring, I understand.

Olivia (becoming hysterical). Do you mean he's dead?

Pim. Dead–of course he's dead. He's been dead——

Olivia (laughing hysterically). Oh, Mr. Pim, you–oh, what a husband to have–oh, I——(But that is all she can say for the moment.)

Lady Marden. Pull yourself together, Olivia. (To Pim.) So he really is dead this time?

Pim. Oh, undoubtedly, undoubtedly. A fish-bone lodged in his throat.

(Lady Marden retreats to settee R. again.)

George (moving up C. to L. window, trying to realize it). Dead! Dead!

Pim (rising and turning to Olivia, alarmed at her hysteria). Oh, but, Mrs. Marden!

Olivia. I think you must excuse me, Mr. Pim. (Crossing to C.) But a herring! There's something about a herring——

(George comes quickly to her, very concerned.)

(Pim is also very concerned.)

(Turning to George.) Oh, George! (Shaking her head in a weak state of laughter, turns to R. and is about to hurry out of the room towards staircase R.)

Quick Curtain.