Mr Pim Passes By | Page 7

to R. of table L.C.). All right, tell me how much you
want me to earn in a year, and I'll earn it.
GEORGE (hedging). It isn't merely a question of money. I just mention
that as one thing--one of the important things. (GEORGE crosses to
BRIAN who backs towards DINAH.) In addition to that, I think you
are both too young to marry. (DINAH stamps her foot.) I don't think
you know your own minds (DINAH kneels dejectedly on settee R.), and
I am not at all persuaded that, with what I venture to call your
outrageous tastes----
DINAH. Oh!
GEORGE You and my niece will live happily together. (_Pause.
Crossing up to writing-table, sits_.) Just because she thinks she loves
you, Dinah may persuade herself now that she agrees with all you say
and do, but she has been properly brought up in an honest English
country household-- (DINAH throws up her arms and buries her face
in her hands on piano) and--er--she--well, in short, I cannot at all
approve of any engagement between you. (Getting up.) Olivia, if this
Mr.--er--Pim comes, I shall be down at the farm You might send him
along to me.
(He walks towards the windows up L.)
BRIAN (moving up R., followed by DINAH; indignantly). Is there any
reason why I shouldn't marry a girl who has been properly brought up?
GEORGE. I think you know my views, Strange.
(DINAH, disappointed, crosses down R. again to below table R.C.)
OLIVIA. George, wait a moment, dear. We can't quite leave it like this.
GEORGE. I have said all I want to say on the subject.
(DINAH sits on settee R.)
OLIVIA. Yes, darling, but I haven't begun to say all that I want to say

on the subject.
GEORGE (crossing down to back of table L.C.). Of course, if you have
anything to say, Olivia, I will listen to it; but I don't know that this is
quite the time--(OLIVIA _makes a marked movement as she is sewing
the curtains), or that you have chosen--(looking darkly at the
curtains_)-- quite the occupation likely to--er--endear your views to me.
DINAH (_mutinously, rising quickly and crossing to stool on which
she kneels and looks up into GEORGE'S face and bangs the table_). I
may as well tell you, Uncle George, that I have got a good deal to say,
too.
(BRIAN crosses down to her R., _gingerly pulling her sleeve, trying to
restrain her_.)
OLIVIA. Yes, darling. I can guess what you are going to say, Dinah,
and I think you had better keep it for the moment.
DINAH (meekly, backing to R. below BRIAN and to L. of table R.C.).
Yes, Aunt Olivia.
OLIVIA. Brian, you might take her outside for a walk. I expect you
have plenty to talk about.
(BRIAN and DINAH move up R.)
GEORGE (following them up). Now mind, Strange, no love-making. I
put you on your honour about that.
BRIAN (looking round dubiously at DINAH). I'll do my best to avoid
it, sir.
DINAH (cheekily). May I take his arm if we go up a hill?
OLIVIA. I'm sure you'll know how to behave--both of you.
BRIAN (R. of writing-table). Come on, then, Dinah.

DINAH (following him). Right-o. (_They exeunt through windows and
off to_ L.)
GEORGE (as they go). And if you do see any clouds, Strange, take a
good look at them. (He chuckles to himself.) Triangular clouds--I never
heard of such nonsense. (_He goes back to his chair at the writing-table
and sits_.) Futuristic rubbish... Well, Olivia?
OLIVIA (sewing curtains). Well, George?
GEORGE. What are you doing?
OLIVIA. Making curtains--(grunt of disapproval from
GEORGE)--George. Won't they be rather sweet? Oh, but I forgot--you
don't like them.
GEORGE. No. I don't like them, and what is more, I don't mean to
have them in my house. As I told you yesterday, this is the house of a
simple country gentleman, and I don't want any of these new-fangled
ideas in it.
OLIVIA. Is marrying for love a new-fangled idea?
GEORGE. We'll come to that directly. None of you women can keep to
the point. What I am saying now is that the house of my fathers and
forefathers is good enough for me.
OLIVIA. Do you know, George, I can hear one of your ancestors
saying that to his wife in their smelly old cave--(GEORGE _looks up
annoyed at her levity_)--when the new-fangled idea of building houses
was first suggested. "The Cave of my Forefathers is good enough
for----"
GEORGE (rising and coming to R. of L.C. table). That's ridiculous.
Naturally we must have progress. But that's just the point. (_Indicating
the curtains_.) I don't call this sort of thing progress. It's--ah--
retrogression.

OLIVIA. Well, anyhow, it's pretty.
GEORGE. There I disagree with you. And I must say once more