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.