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. Have you come to stay with us?
PIM. Well no, Miss—er—Dinah.
DINAH (nodding). That's right. I can see I shan't have to speak to you again. Now tell me your name, and I bet you I get it right first time. And do sit down.
PIM (sitting down). Thank you. My name is—er—Pim, Carraway Pim—
DINAH. Pim, that's easy.
PIM. And I have a letter of introduction to your father—
DINAH. Oh no; now you're going wrong again, Mr. Pim. George isn't my father; he's my uncle. Uncle George—he doesn't like me calling him George. Olivia doesn't mind—I mean she doesn't mind being called Olivia, but George is rather touchy. You see, he's been my guardian since I was about two, and then about five years ago he married a widow called Mrs. Telworthy—that's Olivia—so she became my Aunt Olivia, only she lets me drop the Aunt. Got that?
PIM (a little alarmed). I—I think so, Miss Marden.
DINAH (admiringly). I say, you are quick, Mr. Pim. Well, if you take my advice, when you've finished your business with George, you will hang about a bit and see if you can't see Olivia. She's simply devastating. I don't wonder George fell in love with her.
PIM. It's only the merest matter of business—just a few minutes with your uncle—I'm afraid I shall hardly—