Olivia. You were calling him Brian yesterday.
George. Yesterday I regarded him as a boy, now he wants me to look upon him as a man.
Olivia. He's twenty-four.
George. Yes, and Dinah's nineteen. Ridiculous. (Crossing up to smoking-table up R., and filling his pipe which he finds on table.)
Olivia. If he'd been a Conservative, and thought that clouds were round, I suppose he'd have seemed older, somehow.
George. That's a different point altogether. That has nothing to do with his age.
Olivia (innocently). Oh, I thought it had.
George (crossing down C. stuffing tobacco into his pipe). What I am objecting to is these ridiculously early marriages before either party knows its own mind, much less the mind of the other party. (Moving to fireplace looking for a match.) Such marriages invariably lead to unhappiness.
Olivia. Of course, my first marriage wasn't a happy one.
George. As you know, Olivia, I dislike speaking about your first marriage at all–(takes a match from table down L. Olivia rises slowly and goes up to R. of writing-table)–and I had no intention of bringing it up now, but since you mention it–well, there's a case in point. (Sits on settee L., lighting his pipe.)