DINAH. You shan't be sorry either, Brian. BRIAN (_looking at her lovingly_). Oh, I know I shan't.... What will Olivia think about it? Will she be surprised? DINAH. Olivia? Oh, she's never surprised. She always seems to have thought of things about half an hour before they happen. George just begins to get hold of them about half an hour after they've happened. (_Considering him, stroking his hair_.) After all, there's no reason why George shouldn't like you, darling. BRIAN. I'm not his sort, you know, really. DINAH. You're more Olivia's sort. Well, we'll tell Olivia this morning. (OLIVIA _comes in from top of staircase up R_.) OLIVIA (_coming in_). And what are you going to tell Olivia this morning? (_They jump up and go to her_.) DINAH. Olivia, darling-- OLIVIA, Oh, well, I think I can guess, (DINAH _goes to her_ R, _and_ BRIAN _to her_ L., _and they bring her down_ C.) BRIAN (_following_). Say you understand, Mrs. Marden. OLIVIA. Mrs. Marden, I am afraid, is a very dense person, Brian, but I think if you asked Olivia if she understood-- BRIAN. Bless you, Olivia. I _knew_ you'd be on our side. DINAH. Of course she would. OLIVIA. I don't know if it's usual to kiss an aunt-in-law, Brian, but Dinah is such a very special sort of niece that--(_she inclines her cheek and_ BRIAN _kisses it_). DINAH (_backing away to_ B. _a little_). I say, you are in luck to-day, Brian. (BRIAN _moves up_ C. _laughing_.) OLIVIA (_crossing below settee_ L. _and up_ L. _to cabinet_). And how many people have been told the good news? BRIAN. Nobody yet. DINAH. Except Mr. Pim. BRIAN (_crossing down to_ DINAH). Oh, does he-- OLIVIA (_timing as she reaches cabinet, up_ L.), Who's Mr. Pim? DINAH. Oh, he just happened--(OLIVIA _takes curtains and work-basket from centre cupboard of cabinet_.)--I say, are those the curtains? Then you're going to have them after all? OLIVIA (_with an air of surprise, coming down L., and putting work-basket on table L.C. and sitting with curtains_). After all what? But I decided on them long ago. (_To_ BRIAN.) You haven't told George yet. BRIAN (_moving to below stool_ L.C.). I began to, you know, but I never got any farther than "Er--there's just--er--" DINAH (_crossing quickly below_ OLIVIA _and speaking into her face_). George would talk about _pigs_ all the time. OLIVIA. Well, I suppose you want me to help you. DINAH (_sitting to_ L. _of_ OLIVIA). Oh, do, darling. BRIAN (_sits on stool_ L.C.). It would be awfully decent of you. Of course, I'm not quite his sort really-- DINAH. You're my sort. BRIAN. But I don't think he objects to me, and-- (GEORGE _comes in from terrace, a typical, narrow-minded, honest country gentleman of forty odd._ BRIAN _rises hurriedly and crosses to above piano to_ R. DINAH _rises and stands by fireplace._ OLIVIA _unfolds curtains and prepares to sew_.)