She hurries back into the kitchen. DAN jerks head after her with a laugh and looks at OLIVIA.
OLIVIA (arranging wool at the table): I'm not a snob, but, in case you ever call here again, I'd like to point out that though I'm employed by my aunt, I'm not quite in Dora's position.
DAN: Oh, I hope not … (She turns away, confused. He moves to her.) Though I'll be putting it all right for Dora. I'm going to marry her. And—
OLIVIA (coldly): I don't believe you.
DAN (after a pause): You don't like me, do you?
OLIVIA: No.
DAN (with a smile): Well, everybody else does!
OLIVIA (absorbed in her wool-sorting): Your eyes are set quite wide apart, your hands are quite good … I don't really know what's wrong with you.
DAN looks at his outspread hands. A pause. He breaks it, and goes nearer to her.
DAN (persuasively): You know, I've been looking at you too.
You're lonely, aren't you? I could see—