Olivia. What difference does it make?
George. My dear Olivia, if you can't see that–a–a–oh, well!
Olivia. Oh! A convict! So, you see, we needn't be too particular about our niece, need we?
George. I think we had better leave your first husband out of the conversation altogether. I never wished to refer to him; I never wish to hear about him again. I certainly had not realized that he was actually–er–well–convicted for his–er–(moving to writing-table and picking up his cap).
Olivia. Mistakes.
George. Well, we needn't go into that. As for this other matter, I don't for a moment take it seriously. Dinah is an exceptionally pretty girl, and young. Strange is a good-looking boy. (Coming down to back of settee L.) If they are attracted to each other, it is a mere outward attraction which I am convinced will not lead to any lasting happiness. (Olivia is about to protest.) That must be regarded as my last word in the matter, Olivia. If this Mr.–er–what was his name, comes, I shall be down at the farm. (George goes out by the staircase up R.)
(Left alone, Olivia rises, goes up C., takes up her curtains again and crossing down L. sits on settee, and gets calmly to work upon them.)
(Dinah comes in by the windows from up R. and crosses to L. window at back, then seeing Olivia, beckons to Brian and runs down to back of settee to R. of Olivia. Brian enters from up R., and follows down to back of table L.C.)
Dinah (over back of settee). Finished?
Olivia (startled). Oh, no, I've got all these rings to put on.