Poor George! Did I frighten you rather?
GEORGE. You're so strange to-day. I don't understand you. You're not
like the Olivia I know.
(They sit down on the sofa together.)
OLIVIA. Perhaps you don't know me very well after all.
GEORGE (affectionately). Oh, that's nonsense, old girl. You're just my
Olivia.
OLIVIA. And yet it seemed as though I wasn't going to be your Olivia
half an hour ago.
GEORGE (with a shudder). Don't talk about it. It doesn't bear thinking
about. Well, thank Heaven that's over. Now we can get married again
quietly and nobody will be any the wiser.
OLIVIA. Married again?
GEORGE. Yes, dear. As you--er--(he laughs uneasily) said just now, you
are Mrs. Telworthy. Just for the moment. But we can soon put that
right. My idea was to go up this evening and--er--make arrangements,
and if you come up to-morrow morning, if we can manage it by then, we
could get quietly married at a Registry Office, and--er--nobody any
the wiser.
OLIVIA. Yes, I see. You want me to marry you at a Registry Office
to-morrow?
GEORGE. If we can arrange it by then. I don't know how long these
things take, but I should imagine there would be no difficulty.
OLIVIA. Oh no, that part ought to be quite easy.
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