OLIVIA.  Dinah will have to know.  I’m very fond of her, George.  You can’t send me away without telling Dinah.  And Brian is my friend.  You have your solicitor and your aunt and your conscience to consult—­mayn’t I even have Brian?

GEORGE (forgetting).  I should have thought that your husband——­

OLIVIA.  Yes, but we don’t know where Jacko is.

GEORGE.  I was not referring to—­er—­Telworthy.

OLIVIA.  Well then?

GEORGE.  Well, naturally I—­you mustn’t—­Oh, this is horrible!

(He comes back to his desk as the others come in.)

OLIVIA (getting up).  George and I have had some rather bad news, Aunt
Julia.  We wanted your advice.  Where will you sit?

LADY MARDEN.  Thank you, Olivia.  I can sit down by myself. (She does so, near GEORGE.  DINAH sits on the sofa with OLIVIA, and BRIAN half leans against the back of it.  There is a hush of expectation. . . .) What is it?  Money, I suppose.  Nobody’s safe nowadays.

GEORGE (signalling for help).  Olivia—­

OLIVIA.  We’ve just heard that my first husband is still alive.

DINAH.  Telworthy!

BRIAN.  Good Lord!

LADY MARDEN.  George!

DINAH (excitedly).  And only this morning I was saying that nothing ever happened in this house! (Remorsefully to OLIVIA) Darling, I don’t mean that.  Darling one!

LADY MARDEN.  What does this mean, George?  I leave you for ten minutes—­barely ten minutes—­to go and look at the pigs, and when I come back you tell me that Olivia is a bigamist.

BRIAN (indignantly).  I say—­

OLIVIA (restraining him).  H’sh!

BRIAN (to OLIVIA).  If this is a row, I’m on your side.

LADY MARDEN.  Well, George?

GEORGE.  I’m afraid it’s true, Aunt Julia.  We heard the news just before lunch—­just before you came.  We’ve only this moment had an opportunity of talking about it, of wondering what to do.

LADY MARDEN.  What was his name—­Tel—­something—­

OLIVIA.  Jacob Telworthy.

LADY MARDEN.  So he’s alive still?

GEORGE.  Apparently.  There seems to be no doubt about it.

LADY MARDEN (to OLIVIA).  Didn’t you see him die?  I should always want to see my husband die before I married again.  Not that I approve of second marriages, anyhow.  I told you so at the time, George.

OLIVIA. And me, Aunt Julia.

LADY MARDEN.  Did I?  Well, I generally say what I think.

GEORGE.  I ought to tell you, Aunt Julia, that no blame attaches to Olivia over this.  Of that I am perfectly satisfied.  It’s nobody’s fault, except——­

LADY MARDEN.  Except Telworthy’s. He seems to have been rather careless.  Well, what are you going to do about it?

GEORGE.  That’s just it.  It’s a terrible situation.  There’s bound to be so much publicity.  Not only all this, but—­but Telworthy’s past and—­and everything.