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.
OLIVIA. Do we?
GEORGE. Of course we do.
OLIVIA. I wonder. When two people of our age think of getting married,
one wants to be very sure that there is real community of ideas
between them. Whether it is a comparatively trivial matter, like the
right colour for a curtain, or some very much more serious question of
conduct which arises, one wants to feel that there is some chance of
agreement between husband and wife.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162