DINAH (excitedly). And only this morning I was saying that nothing ever happened in this house! (Remorsefully to OLIVIA) Darling, I don't mean that. Darling one!
LADY MARDEN. What does this mean, George? I leave you for ten minutes--barely ten minutes--to go and look at the pigs, and when I come back you tell me that Olivia is a bigamist.
BRIAN (to OLIVIA). If this is a row, I'm on your side.
GEORGE. I'm afraid it's true, Aunt Julia. We heard the news just before lunch--just before you came. We've only this moment had an opportunity of talking about it, of wondering what to do.
LADY MARDEN. What was his name--Tel--something--
GEORGE. Apparently. There seems to be no doubt about it.
LADY MARDEN (to OLIVIA). Didn't you _see_ him die? I should always want to _see_ my husband die before I married again. Not that I approve of second marriages, anyhow. I told you so at the time, George.
LADY MARDEN. Did I? Well, I generally say what I think.
GEORGE. I ought to tell you, Aunt Julia, that no blame attaches to Olivia over this. Of that I am perfectly satisfied. It's nobody's fault, except----
LADY MARDEN. Except Telworthy's. _He_ seems to have been rather careless. Well, what are you going to do about it?
GEORGE. That's just it. It's a terrible situation. There's bound to be so much publicity. Not only all this, but--but Telworthy's past and--and everything.
LADY MARDEN. I should have said that it was Telworthy's present which was the trouble. Had he a past as well?
OLIVIA. He was a fraudulent company promoter. He went to prison a good deal.
LADY MARDEN. George, you never told me this!
OLIVIA. I don't see _why_ he should want to talk about it.
DINAH (indignantly). What's it got to do with Olivia, anyhow? It's not _her_ fault.
LADY MARDEN (sarcastically). Oh no, I daresay it's mine.
OLIVIA (to GEORGE). YOU wanted to ask Aunt Julia what was the right thing to do.
BRIAN (bursting out). Good Heavens, what _is_ there to do except the one and only thing? (They all look at him and he becomes embarrassed) I'm sorry. You don't want _me_ to--
LADY MARDEN. Well, go on, Mr. Strange. What would _you_ do in George's position?
BRIAN. Do? Say to the woman I loved, "You're _mine_, and let this other damned fellow come and take you from me if he can!" And he couldn't--how could he?--not if the woman chose _me_.
