DINAH. Very. . . . I say, what has happened, do you think?
BRIAN. Everything. I love you, and you love me.
DINAH. Silly! I meant between George and Olivia. Didn't you notice them at lunch?
BRIAN. I noticed that you seemed to be doing most of the talking. But then I've noticed that before sometimes. Do you think Olivia and your uncle have quarrelled because of us?
DINAH. Of course not. George may think he has quarrelled, but I'm quite sure Olivia hasn't. No, I believe Mr. Pim's at the bottom of it. He's brought some terribly sad news about George's investments. The old home will have to be sold up.
BRIAN. Good. Then your uncle won't mind your marrying me.
DINAH. Yes, darling, but you must be more dramatic about it than that. "George," you must say, with tears in your eyes, "I cannot pay off the whole of the mortgage for you. I have only two and ninepence; but at least let me take your niece off your hands." Then George will thump you on the back and say gruffly, "You're a good fellow, Brian, a damn good fellow," and he'll blow his nose very loudly, and say, "Confound this cigar, it won't draw properly." (She gives us a rough impression of GEORGE doing it.)
BRIAN. Dinah, you're a heavenly idiot. And you've simply got to marry me, uncles or no uncles.
DINAH. It will have to be "uncles," I'm afraid, because, you see, I'm his ward, and I can get sent to Chancery or Coventry or somewhere beastly, if I marry without his consent. Haven't you got anybody who objects to your marrying me?
BRIAN. Nobody, thank Heaven.