em
in my house. As I told you yesterday, this is the house of a simple
country gentleman, and I don't want any of these new-fangled ideas in
it.

OLIVIA. Is marrying for love a new-fangled idea?

GEORGE. We'll come to that directly. None of you women can keep to the
point. What I am saying now is that the house of my fathers and
forefathers is good enough for me.

OLIVIA. Do you know, George, I can hear one of your ancestors saying
that to his wife in their smelly old cave, when the new-fangled idea
of building houses was first suggested. "The Cave of my Fathers is--"

GEORGE. That's ridiculous. Naturally we must have progress. But that's
just the point. (Indicating the curtains) I don't call this sort of
thing progress. It's--ah--retrogression.

OLIVIA. Well, anyhow, it's pretty.

GEORGE. There I disagree with you. And I must say once more that I
will not have them hanging in my house.

OLIVIA. Very well, George. (But she goes on working.)

GEORGE. That being so, I don't see the necessity of going on with
them.

OLIVIA. Well, I must do something with them now I've got the material.
I thought perhaps I could sell them when they're finished--as we're so
poor.

GEORGE. What do you mean--so poor?

OLIVIA. Well, you said just now that you couldn't give Dinah an
allowance because rents had gone down.

GEORGE (annoyed). Confound it, Olivia! Keep to the point! We'll talk
about Dinah's affairs directly. We're discussing our own affairs at
the moment.

OLIVIA. But what is there to discuss?

GEORGE. Those ridiculous things.

OLIVIA. But we've finished that. You've said you wouldn't have them
hanging in your house, and I've said, "Very well, George." Now we can
go on to Dinah and Brian.

GEORGE (shouting). But put these beastly things away.

OLIVIA (rising and gathering up the curtains). Very well, George. (She
puts them away, slowly, gracefully. There is an uncomfortable silence.
Evidently somebody ought to apologise.)

GEORGE (realising that he is the one). Er--look here, Olivia, old
girl, you've been a jolly good wife to me, and we don't often have
rows, and if I've been rude to you about this--lost my temper a bit
perhaps, what?--I'll say I'm sorry. May I have a kiss?

OLIVIA (holding up her face). George, darling! (He kisses her.) Do you
love me?

GEORGE. You know I do, old girl.

OLIVIA. As much as Brian loves Dinah?

GEORGE (stiffly). I've said all I want to say about that. (He goes
away from