OLIVIA (shocked).  Of course not, George!  What would the County—­I mean Heaven—­I mean the Law—­I mean, of course not!  Besides, it’s so unnecessary.  If I decide to accept you, of course I shall marry you.

GEORGE.  Quite so.  And if you—­ah—­decide to refuse me?  What will you do?

OLIVIA.  Nothing.

GEORGE.  Meaning by that?

OLIVIA.  Just that, George.  I shall stay here—­just as before.  I like this house.  It wants a little re-decorating perhaps, but I do like it, George. . . .  Yes, I shall be quite happy here.

GEORGE.  I see.  You will continue to live down here—­in spite of what you said just now about the immorality of it.

OLIVIA (surprised).  But there’s nothing immoral in a widow living alone in a big country house, with perhaps the niece of a friend of hers staying with her, just to keep her company.

GEORGE (sarcastic).  And what shall I be doing, when you’ve so very kindly taken possession of my house for me?

OLIVIA.  I don’t know, George.  Travelling, I expect.  You could come down sometimes with a chaperone.  I suppose there would be nothing wrong in that.

GEORGE (indignant).  Thank you!  And what if I refuse to be turned out of my house?

OLIVIA.  Then, seeing that we can’t both be in it, it looks as though you’d have to turn me out. (Casually) I suppose there are legal ways of doing these things.  You’d have to consult your solicitor again.

GEORGE (amazed).  Legal ways?

OLIVIA.  Well, you couldn’t throw me out, could you?  You’d have to get an injunction against me—­or prosecute me for trespass—­or something.  It would make an awfully unusual case, wouldn’t it?  The papers would be full of it.

GEORGE.  You must be mad!

OLIVIA (dreamily).  Widow of well-known ex-convict takes possession of J.P.’s house.  Popular country gentleman denied entrance to his own home.  Doomed to travel.

GEORGE (angrily).  I’ve had enough of this.  Do you mean all this nonsense?

OLIVIA.  I do mean, George, that I am in no hurry to go up to London and get married.  I love the country just now, and (with a sigh) after this morning, I’m—­rather tired of husbands.

GEORGE (in a rage).  I’ve never heard so much—­damned nonsense in my life.  I will leave you to come to your senses. (He goes out indignantly.)

(OLIVIA, who has forgiven him already, throws a loving kiss after him, and then turns triumphantly to her dear curtains.  She takes them, smiling, to the sofa, and has just got to work again, when MR. PIM appears at the open windows.)

PIM (in a whisper).  Er, may I come in, Mrs. Marden?

OLIVIA (turning round in surprise).  Mr. Pim!

PIM (anxiously).  Mr. Marden is—­er—­not here?

OLIVIA (getting up).  Do you want to see him?  I will tell him.

PIM.  No, no, no!  Not for the world! (He comes in and looks anxiously at the door) There is no immediate danger of his returning, Mrs. Marden?