Dinah. It's so interesting. He's just going to send a telegram, and then he's coming back again. Mr. Pim–(coyly and moving down to head of settee R.)–this is Brian–you know,
Brian (nodding). How-do-you-do?
Pim. How-do-you-do, sir?
Dinah (pleadingly and crossing below Brian to Pim), You won't mind going to the post office by yourself now, will you? (Coyly moving up to chair by writing-table and nervously kicking her ankle, etc.) Because, you see, Brian and I–(She looks lovingly at Brian.)
Pim (moved to sentiment). Miss Dinah and Mr.–er–Brian, I have only come into your lives for a moment, and it is probable that I shall now pass out of them for ever, but perhaps you will permit an old man–
Dinah. Oh, not so old!
Pim (chuckling happily). Not old? Well, shall we say a middle-aged man–(Dinah nods assent. Pim laughs again)–a middle-aged man to wish you both every happiness in the years that you have before you. (Crossing in front of Dinah, shakes hands with Brian.) Good-bye–(shaking hands with Dinah)–good-bye, and thank you so much. Oh, I know my way. (Moving up L. and turning to Dinah.) Turn to the left and down the hill? Turn to the left and down the hill.
(Exit Pim up L. Dinah watches him off up L. on terrace and Brian up R.)
Dinah (coming into the room below writing-table to R.C.). Brian, he'll get lost if he goes that way.
Brian (crossing at back of windows and calling after him up L.). Round to the left, sir. Yes, that's right. (He comes back into the room, crossing down L.C.) Rum old bird. Who is he?