BRIAN.  I began to, you know, but I never got any farther than
“Er—­there’s just—­er—­”

DINAH.  George would talk about pigs all the time.

OLIVIA.  Well, I suppose you want me to help you.

DINAH.  Do, darling.

BRIAN.  It would be awfully decent of you.  Of course, I’m not quite his sort really—­

DINAH.  You’re my sort.

BRIAN.  But I don’t think he objects to me, and—­

(GEORGE comes in, a typical, narrow-minded, honest country gentleman of forty odd.)

GEORGE (at the windows).  What’s all this about a Mr. Pim? (He kicks some of the mud off his boots) Who is he?  Where is he?  I had most important business with Lumsden, and the girl comes down and cackles about a Mr. Pim, or Ping, or something.  Where did I put his card?  (Bringing it out) Carraway Pim.  Never heard of him in my life.

DINAH.  He said he had a letter of introduction, Uncle George.

GEORGE.  Oh, you saw him, did you?  Yes, that reminds me, there was a letter—­(he brings it out and reads it).

DINAH.  He had to send a telegram.  He’s coming back.

OLIVIA.  Pass me those scissors, Brian.

BRIAN.  These? (He picks them up and comes close to her.)

OLIVIA.  Thank you. (She indicates GEORGE’S back.  “Now?” says BRIAN with his eyebrows.  She nods.)

GEORGE (reading).  Ah well, a friend of Brymer’s.  Glad to oblige him.  Yes, I know the man he wants.  Coming back, you say, Dinah?  Then I’ll be going back.  Send him down to the farm, Olivia, when he comes. (to BRIAN) Hallo, what happened to you?

OLIVIA.  Don’t go, George, there’s something we want to talk about.

GEORGE.  Hallo, what’s this?

BRIAN (to OLIVIA).  Shall I——?

OLIVIA.  Yes.

BRIAN (stepping out).  I’ve been wanting to tell you all this morning, sir, only I didn’t seem to have an opportunity of getting it out.

GEORGE.  Well, what is it?

BRIAN.  I want to marry Dinah, sir.

GEORGE.  You want to marry Dinah?  God bless my soul!

DINAH (rushing to him and putting her cheek against his coat).  Oh, do say you like the idea, Uncle George.

GEORGE.  Like the idea!  Have you heard of this nonsense, Olivia?

OLIVIA.  They’ve just this moment told me, George.  I think they would be happy together.

GEORGE (to BRIAN).  And what do you propose to be happy together on?

BRIAN.  Well, of course, it doesn’t amount to much at present, but we shan’t starve.

DINAH.  Brian got fifty pounds for a picture last March!

GEORGE (a little upset by this).  Oh! (Recovering gamely) And how many pictures have you sold since?

BRIAN.  Well, none, but—­

GEORGE.  None!  And I don’t wonder.  Who the devil is going to buy pictures with triangular clouds and square sheep?  And they call that Art nowadays!  Good God, man, (waving him to the windows) go outside and look at the clouds!