ANNE. Yes, sir?
PIM. I ought to have sent a telegram, but I can do it on my way back. You have a telegraph office in the village?
ANNE. Oh yes, sir. If you turn to the left when you get outside the gates, it isn't more than a hundred yards down the hill.
PIM. Thank you, thank you. Very stupid of me to have forgotten.
[ANNE goes out.
(MR. PIM wanders about the room humming to himself, and looking vaguely at the pictures. He has his back to the door as DINAH comes in. She is nineteen, very pretty, very happy, and full of boyish high spirits and conversation.)
DINAH. Hullo!
PIM (turning round). Ah, good morning, Mrs. Marden. You must forgive my—er—
DINAH. Oh I say, I'm not Mrs. Marden. I'm Dinah.
PIM (with a bow). Then I will say, Good morning, Miss Diana.