Part 41 (1/2)

OLIVIA (equally casually). Brian--yes, isn't he? And such a nice boy . . .

GEORGE. Got fifty pounds for a picture the other day, didn't he? Hey?

OLIVIA. Yes. Of course he has only just begun. . . .

GEORGE. Critics think well of him, what?

OLIVIA. They all say he has genius. Oh, I don't think there's any doubt about it . . .

GEORGE. Of course, I don't profess to know anything about painting.

OLIVIA. You've never had time to take it up, dear.

GEORGE. I know what I like, of course. Can't say I see much in this new-fangled stuff. If a man can paint, why can't he paint like--like Rubens or--or Reynolds?

OLIVIA. I suppose we all have our own styles. Brian will find his directly. Of course, he's only just beginning. . . .

GEORGE. But they think a lot of him, what?

OLIVIA. Oh yes!

GEORGE. H'm! . . . Good-looking fellow. (There is rather a longer silence this time, GEORGE continues to hope that he is appearing casual and unconcerned. He stands looking at OLIVIA'S work for a moment.)

GEORGE. Nearly finished 'em?

OLIVIA. Very nearly. Are my scissors there?

GEORGE (looking round). Scissors?

OLIVIA. Ah, here they are. . . .

GEORGE. Where are you going to put 'em?

OLIVIA (as if really wondering). I don't quite know. . . . I _had_ thought of this room, but--I'm not quite sure.

GEORGE. Brighten the room up a bit.

OLIVIA. Yes. . . .

GEORGE (walking over to the present curtains). H'm. They _are_ a bit faded.

OLIVIA (shaking out hers, and looking at them critically). Sometimes I think I love them, and sometimes I'm not quite sure.

GEORGE. Best way is to hang 'em up and see how you like 'em then.

Always take 'em down again.

OLIVIA. That's rather a good idea, George!

GEORGE. Best way.