GEORGE (trying to realise it).  Dead!

OLIVIA (struggling with her laughter).  I think you must excuse me, Mr. Pim—­I can never thank you enough—­a herring—­there’s something about a herring—­morality depends on such little things—­George, you—­(Shaking her head at him in a weak state of laughter, she hurries out of the room.)

MR. PIM.  Dear me!  Dear me!

GEORGE.  Now, let us have this quite clear, Mr. Pim.  You say that the man, Telworthy, Jacob Telworthy, is dead?

MR. PIM.  Telworthy, yes—­didn’t I say Telworthy?  This man I was telling you about—­

GEORGE.  He’s dead?

MR. PIM.  Yes, yes, he died at Marseilles.

LADY MARDEN.  A dispensation of Providence, George.  One can look at it in no other light.

GEORGE.  Dead! (Suddenly annoyed) Really, Mr. Pim, I think you might have told us before.

MR. PIM.  But I—­I was telling you—­I—­

GEORGE.  If you had only told us the whole story at once, instead of in two—­two instalments like this, you would have saved us all a good deal of anxiety.

MR. PIM.  Really, I—­

LADY MARDEN.  I am sure Mr. Pim meant well, George, but it seems a pity he couldn’t have said so before.  If the man was dead, why try to hush it up?

MR. PIM (lost again).  Really, Lady Marden, I—­

GEORGE (getting up).  Well, well, at any rate, I am much obliged to you, Mr. Pim, for having come down to us this afternoon.  Dead! De mortuis, and so forth, but the situation would have been impossible had he lived.  Good-bye! (Holding out his hand) Good-bye!

LADY MARDEN.  Good-bye, Mr. Pim.

MR. PIM.  Good-bye, good-bye! (GEORGE takes him to the door.) Of course, if I had—­(to himself) Telworthy—­I think that was the name.  (He goes out, still wondering.)

GEORGE (with a sigh of thankfulness).  Well!  This is wonderful news, Aunt Julia.

LADY MARDEN.  Most providential! . . .  You understand, of course, that you are not married to Olivia?

GEORGE (who didn’t).  Not married?

LADY MARDEN.  If her first husband only died at Marseilles a few days ago—­

GEORGE.  Good Heavens!

LADY MARDEN.  Not that it matters.  You can get married quietly again. 
Nobody need know.

GEORGE (considering it).  Yes . . . yes.  Then all these years we have been—­er—­Yes.

LADY MARDEN.  Who’s going to know?

GEORGE.  Yes, yes, that’s true. . . .  And in perfect innocence, too.

LADY MARDEN.  I should suggest a Registry Office in London.

GEORGE.  A Registry Office, yes.

LADY MARDEN.  Better go up to town this afternoon.  Can’t do it too quickly.

GEORGE.  Yes, yes.  We can stay at an hotel—­

LADY MARDEN (surprised).  George!

GEORGE.  What?

LADY MARDEN. You will stay at your club.