DINAH (_meekly, backing to_ R. _below_ BRIAN _and to_ L. _of table_
R.C.). Yes, Aunt Olivia.

OLIVIA. Brian, you might take her outside for a walk. I expect you have
plenty to talk about.

(BRIAN _and_ DINAH _move up_ R.)

GEORGE (_following them up_). Now mind, Strange, no love-making. I put
you on your honour about that.

BRIAN (_looking round dubiously at_ DINAH). I'll do my best to avoid it,
sir.

DINAH (_cheekily_). May I take his arm if we go up a hill?

OLIVIA. I'm sure you'll know how to behave--both of you.

BRIAN (R. _of writing-table_). Come on, then, Dinah.

DINAH (_following him_). Right-o. (_They exeunt through windows and off
to_ L.)

GEORGE (_as they go_). And if you do see any clouds, Strange, take a good
look at them. (_He chuckles to himself_.) Triangular clouds--I never
heard of such nonsense. (_He goes back to his chair at the writing-table
and sits_.) Futuristic rubbish... Well, Olivia?

OLIVIA (_sewing curtains_). Well, George?