Brian (moving to below stool L.C.). I began to, you know, but I never got any farther than "Er–there's just–er–"
Dinah (crossing quickly below Olivia and speaking into her face). George would talk about pigs all the time.
Olivia. Well, I suppose you want me to help you.
Dinah (sitting to L. of Olivia). Oh, do, darling.
Brian (sits on stool L.C.). It would be awfully decent of you. Of course, I'm not quite his sort really–
Dinah. You're my sort.
Brian. But I don't think he objects to me, and–
(George comes in from terrace, a typical, narrow-minded, honest country gentleman of forty odd. Brian rises hurriedly and crosses to above piano to R. Dinah rises and stands by fireplace. Olivia unfolds curtains and prepares to sew.)
George (at the windows–he does not see Brian). Hullo! Hullo! Hullo! What's all this about a Mr. Pim? Who is he? Where is he? (He puts his cap on table, and comes down, into room.) I had most important business with Lumsden, and the girl comes down and cackles about a Mr. Pim, or Ping, or something. Where did I put his card? (Bringing it out.) Carraway Pim. Never heard of him in my life, (Moves back to writing-table and puts down card.)
Dinah. He said he had a letter of introduction, Uncle George.