Pim. Dear me. I ought to have posted this. (Looking at letter.) Oh, well, I must send a telegram. You have a telegraph office in the village?
Anne. Oh, yes, sir. (Moving up to terrace up L. and pointing off L.) If you turn to the left when you get outside the gates, it's about a hundred yards down the hill. Turn to the left and down the hill.
Pim. Turn to the left and down the hill. Thank you, thank you. Very stupid of me to have forgotten.
(Anne exits up staircase R.)
(Mr. Pim wanders about the room humming to himself, and looking at the pictures and photos on piano. Then goes out at window up L.) (Dinah enters from staircase up R. dancing, and humming the air of "Down on the Farm:" she is nineteen, very pretty, very happy, and full of boyish high spirits and conversation. She dances to foot of stairs, looks off R., then down C., then to piano; sits and plays a few bars and sings "Down on the Farm," rises and moves up to R. of piano, and as she does so Pim re-enters from window up L. and they come suddenly face to face up back C. below the writing-table. There is a slight pause.)
Dinah (backing a step). Hullo!
Pim. You must forgive me, but... Good morning, Mrs. Marden.
Dinah. Oh, I say, I'm not Mrs. Marden. I'm Dinah.
Pim (with a smile). Then I will say, Good morning. Miss Diana.
Dinah (reproachfully). Now, look here, if you and I are going to be friends, you mustn't do that. Dinah, not Diana. Do remember it, there's a good man, because I get so tired of correcting people. (Moving down C. to B.) Have you come to stay with us? (Sits on settee R.)