GEORGE. Just a moment, Mr. Pim. You're quite sure that his name was Telworthy?
MR. PIM. Telworthy—Telworthy—didn't I say Telworthy? Yes, that was it—Telworthy. Poor fellow!
OLIVIA. I'm going to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Pim. I feel quite sure that I can trust you. This man Telworthy whom you met is my husband.
MR. PIM. Your husband? (He looks in mild surprise at GEORGE.) But—er—
OLIVIA. My first husband. His death was announced six years ago. I had left him some years before that, but there seems no doubt from your story that he's still alive. His record—the country he comes from—above all, the very unusual name—Telworthy.
MR. PIM. Telworthy—yes—certainly a most peculiar name. I remember saying so. Your first husband? Dear me! Dear me!
GEORGE. You understand, Mr. Pim, that all this is in absolute confidence.
MR. PIM. Of course, of course.
OLIVIA. Well, since he is my husband, we naturally want to know something about him. Where is he now, for instance?
MR. PIM (surprised). Where is he now? But surely I told you? I told you what happened at Marseilles?