I was naturally disinclined to return in person,
and--Polwittle. (Proudly) If you remember, I always said it was a
curious name.
OLIVIA. But who _is_ Polwittle?
PIM (in surprise at her stupidity). The man I have been telling you
about, who met with the sad fatality at Marseilles. Henry
Polwittle--or was it Ernest? No, Henry, I think. Poor fellow.
OLIVIA (indignantly). But you said his name was Telworthy! How _could_
you?
PIM. Yes, yes, I blame myself entirely.
OLIVIA. But how could you _think_ of a name like Telworthy, if it
wasn't Telworthy?
PIM (eagerly). Ah, that is the really interesting thing about the
whole matter.
OLIVIA. Mr. Pim, all your visits here to-day have been interesting.
PIM. Yes, but you see, on my first appearance here this morning, I was
received by--er--Miss Diana.
OLIVIA. Dinah.
PIM. Miss Dinah, yes. She was in--er--rather a communicative mood, and
she happened to mention, by way of passing the time, that before your
marriage to Mr. Marden you had been a Mrs.--er--
OLIVIA. Telworthy.
PIM. Yes, yes, Telworthy, of course. She mentioned also Australia. By
some process of the brain--which strikes me as decidedly curious--when
I was trying to recollect the name of the poor fellow on the boat,
whom you remember I had also met in Australia, the fact that this
other name was also stored in my memory, a name equally peculiar--this
fact I say .
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