OLIVER. Because I can get you an awfully decent pirate, if you like, and if I was his brother-in-law it would be ripping. I've often been marooned with him, of course, but never as his brother-in-law.
JILL. Why don't you marry his daughter and be his son-in-law?
OLIVER. He hasn't got a daughter.
JILL. Well, you could think him one.
OLIVER. I don't want to. If ever I'm such a silly ass as to marry, which I'm jolly well not going to be, I shall marry a—a dusky maiden. Jill, be sporty. All girls have to get married some time. It's different with men.
JILL. Very well, Oliver. I don't want to spoil your afternoon.
OLIVER. Good biz. (He stands up, shuts his eyes and waves his hands about.)
Enter the PIRATE CHIEF.
PIRATE CHIEF (with a flourish). Gentles, your servant. Commodore Crookshank, at your service. Better known on the Spanish Main as One-eared Eric.
OLIVER. Glad to meet you, Commodore. I'm—er— Two-toed Thomas, the Terror of the Dyaks. But you may call me Oliver, if you like. This is my sister Jill—the Pride of the Pampas.