OLIVIA.  Well, but I have been hearing rather bad reports lately.  What with taxes always going up, and rents always going down, some of our landowners are getting into rather straitened circumstances.  At least, so I’m told.

GEORGE.  I don’t know what you’re talking about.

OLIVIA (surprised).  Oh, isn’t it true?  I heard of a case only this morning—­a landowner who always seemed to be very comfortably off, but who couldn’t afford an allowance for his only niece when she wanted to get married.  It made me think that one oughtn’t to judge by appearances.

GEORGE.  You know perfectly well that I can afford to support a wife as my wife should be supported.

OLIVIA.  I’m so glad, dear.  Then your income—­you aren’t getting anxious at all?

GEORGE (stiffly).  You know perfectly well what my income is.  I see no reason for anxiety in the future.

OLIVIA.  Ah, well, then we needn’t think about that any more.  Well, then, there is another thing to be considered.

GEORGE.  I can’t make out what you’re up to.  Don’t you want to get married; to—­er—­legalise this extraordinary situation in which we are placed?

OLIVIA.  I want to be sure that I am going to be happy, George.  I can’t just jump at the very first offer I have had since my husband died, without considering the whole question very carefully.

GEORGE.  So I’m under consideration, eh?

OLIVIA.  Every suitor is.

GEORGE (sarcastically, as he thinks).  Well, go on.

OLIVIA.  Well, then, there’s your niece.  You have a niece who lives with you.  Of course Dinah is a delightful girl, but one doesn’t like marrying into a household in which there is another grown-up woman.  But perhaps she will be getting married herself soon?

GEORGE.  I see no prospect of it.

OLIVIA.  I think it would make it much easier if she did.

GEORGE.  Is this a threat, Olivia?  Are you telling me that if I do not allow young Strange to marry Dinah, you will not marry me?

OLIVIA.  A threat?  Oh no, George.

GEORGE.  Then what does it mean?

OLIVIA.  I’m just wondering if you love me as much as Brian loves
Dinah.  You do love me?

GEORGE (from his heart).  You know I do, old girl. (He comes to her.)

OLIVIA.  You’re not just attracted by my pretty face? . . . Is it a pretty face?

GEORGE.  It’s an adorable one. (He tries to kiss it, but she turns away.)

OLIVIA.  How can I be sure that it is not only my face which makes you think that you care for me?  Love which rests upon a mere outward attraction cannot lead to any lasting happiness—­as one of our thinkers has observed.

GEORGE.  What’s come over you, Olivia?  I don’t understand what you’re driving at.  Why should you doubt my love?

OLIVIA.  Ah!—­Why?

GEORGE.  You can’t pretend that we haven’t been happy together.  I’ve—­I’ve been a good pal to you, eh?  We—­we suit each other, old girl.