DINAH (_crossing quickly towards_ BRIAN). Oh, no, no! OLIVIA. Now, Dinah. You can be good for one more day, and then when Brian isn't here, we'll see what we can do. DINAH (_placing her hands on_ BRIAN'S _shoulders_). Yes, but I didn't want him to go back to-morrow. BRIAN (_sternly, taking her hands away_). Must. Hard work before me. (DINAH _moves to back of table_ L.C.) Earn thousands a year. (_Going down_ R. DINAH _and_ OLIVIA _are amused_). Paint the Mayor and Corporation of Pudsey, life-size, including chains of office; paint slice of haddock on plate. Copy Landseer for old gentleman in Bayswater. Design antimacassar for middle-aged sofa in Streatham. (_Sitting and putting his legs up on settee R_.) Oh, yes. Earn a living for you. Dinah. DINAH (_giggling_). Oh, Brian, you're heavenly. What fun we shall have when we're married. BRIAN (_with exaggerated dignity_). Sir Brian Strange, R.A., if you please, Miss Marden. Sir Brian Strange, R.A., writes: "Your Sanogene has proved a most excellent tonic. After completing the third acre of my Academy picture, 'The Mayor and Corporation of Pudsey,' I was completely exhausted, but one bottle of Sanogene revived me, and I finished the remaining seven acres at a single sitting." OLIVIA (_rising and looking about her_). Brian, find my scissors for me. (_Sits again_.) BRIAN (_rising and crossing to_ C.). Scissors. Sir Brian Strange, R.A., looks for scissors. (BRIAN, _clasping his hands behind his back, with a very important walk, looks first on the top end of piano, then on writing-table at back_. DINAH _playfully follows him round, imitating his walk_. BRIAN _crosses to cabinet up L. and finds the scissors on top, takes them up and in a threatening attitude turns to_ DINAH, _exclaiming,_ "Ha, ha!" DINAH _with a little playful scream backs to chair below writing-table, and sits. Holding up scissors_.) Once more we must record an unqualified success for the eminent Academician. (_Turning to_ OLIVIA _and with a bow hands them over the back of settee to her_.) Your scissors. OLIVIA. Thank you so much. DINAH. Come on, Brian, let's go out. I feel open-airy. (_They go up_ R.) OLIVIA. Don't be late for lunch, there's good people. Lady Marden is coming. DINAH. Aunt Juli-ah! Help! (_She faints in_ BRIAN'S _arms_.) That means a clean pinafore. Brian, you'll jolly well have to brush your hair. BRIAN (_feeling it_). I suppose there's no time now to go up to London and get it cut? (_Enter_ ANNE _from stairs up R. and comes to foot of staircase, followed by_ PIM, _who comes half-way down the stairs_.) ANNE. Mr. Pim! DINAH (_delighted_). Hullo. Mr. Pim! (_Imitating a clown_.) Here we are again! You can't get rid of us so easily, you see. PIM. I--er--dear Miss Marden----(_Crosses down to_ C.) OLIVIA. How-do-you-do, Mr. Pim? I can't get up, but do come and sit down (PIM _shakes hands with_ OLIVIA.) My husband will be here in a minute. Anne, send somebody down to the farm----