Olivia (to George). You wanted to ask Aunt Julia what was the right thing to do.
Brian (crossing down L.C. and bursting out). Good Heavens, what is there to do except the one and only thing? (They all look at him and he becomes embarrassed and backs up stage a little.) I'm sorry. You don't want me to——
Olivia (taking his hand across table L.C.). I do, Brian.
Lady Marden. Well, go on, Mr. Strange. What would you do in George's position?
Brian (crosses down to back of table L.C.). Do? Say to the woman I loved, "You're mine (bangs table with his fist), and let this other damned fellow come and take you from me if he can!" And he couldn't–how could he?–not if the woman chose me.
(Lady Marden gazes at Brian in amazement, George in anger. Olivia presses his hand gratefully. He has said what she has been waiting–oh, so eagerly–for George to say. George rises and goes angrily up to Brian, who defies him. George is subdued and moves helplessly up C. followed by Brian, who is still defiant. Dinah rises and runs up L. and round back of settee L. and up to left of Brian and takes his arm.)
Dinah (adoringly). Oh, Brian! (In a loud whisper.) It is me, isn't it, and not Olivia?
Brian. You baby, of course!
Lady Marden. I'm afraid, Mr. Strange (Dinah with an exclamation of annoyance comes down to L. of settee L.), your morals are as peculiar as your views on Art.
Brian (down to back of table L.C.). This is not a question of morals or of art, it's a question of love.