She comes down to the table.
HUBERT: Don't want to sound rude, et cetera, but women don't get men proposing to them every day, you know … (Turning over a page) Gosh, what a wizard machine—
OLIVIA (sitting at the left of the table): I can't think why you want to marry me, as a matter of fact. It isn't the same as if I were very pretty, or something.
HUBERT: You do say some jolly rum things, Olivia, upon my soul.
OLIVIA: I'll tell you why, then, if it makes you feel any better. You're cautious; and you want to marry me because I'm quiet. I'd make you a steady wife, and run a home for you.
HUBERT: There's nothing to be ashamed of in being steady. I'm steady myself.
OLIVIA: I know you are. HUBERT: Then why aren't you keen?
OLIVIA (after a pause, tolerant but weary): Because you're an unmitigated bore.
HUBERT: A bore? (Horrified) Me, a bore? Upon my word, Olivia, I think you're a bit eccentric, I do really. Sorry to be rude, and all that, but that's put the kybosh on it! People could call me a thing or two, but I've never been called a bore!
OLIVIA: Bores never are. People are too bored with them to call them anything.