GEORGE. We--we love each other, old girl.
OLIVIA. We do now, yes. But what shall we be like in five years' time?
Supposing that after we have been married five years, we found
ourselves estranged from each other upon such questions as Dinah's
future, or the decorations of the drawing-room, or even the advice to
give to a friend who had innocently contracted a bigamous marriage?
How bitterly we should regret then our hasty plunge into a matrimony
which was no true partnership, whether of tastes, or of ideas, or even
of consciences! (With a sigh) Ah me!
GEORGE (nastily). Unfortunately for your argument, Olivia, I can
answer you out of your own mouth. You seem to have forgotten what you
said this morning in the case of--er--young Strange.
OLIVIA (reproachfully). Is it quite fair, George, to drag up what was
said this morning?
GEORGE. You've brought it on yourself.
OLIVIA. I? . . . Well, and what did I say this morning?
GEORGE. You said that it was quite enough that Strange was a gentleman
and in love with Dinah for me to let them marry each other.
OLIVIA. Oh! . . . _Is_ that enough, George?
GEORGE (triumphantly). You said so.
OLIVIA (meekly). Well, if you think so, too, I--I don't mind risking
it.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163