diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/belda10h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/belda10h.html | 3680 |
1 files changed, 3680 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/belda10h.html b/old/belda10h.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be926ca --- /dev/null +++ b/old/belda10h.html @@ -0,0 +1,3680 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?> +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html> + +<head> + <title>Belinda: An April Folly in Three Acts, by A. A. Milne</title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- h1,h2,h3,h4 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-variant: small-caps } + h1 { margin-top: 2em } + h2 { margin-top: 1.5em } + li.toc { font-variant: small-caps } + p.smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + span.char { font-variant: small-caps; } + span.stage { font-variant: small-caps; } + --> + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Belinda, by A. A. Milne +#4 in our series by A. A. Milne + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Belinda + +Author: A. A. Milne + +Release Date: November, 2004 [EBook #6992] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 20, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELINDA *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by Curtis A. Weyant, Stan Goodman, +Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>Belinda</h1> +<h2>An April Folly in Three Acts</h2> + +<p style="text-align: center; font-variant: small-caps">by</p> + +<h2>A. A. Milne</h2> + + +<h1>Characters</h1> + + +<p>Produced by Mr. Dion Boucioault at the New Theatre, London, on April 8, +1918, with the following cast:—</p> + +<blockquote><span class="char">Belinda Tremayne</span> .......... <i>Irene Vanbrugh</i>.<br /> +<span class="char">Delia</span> (her Daughter) ...... <i>Isabel Elsom</i>.<br /> +<span class="char">Harold Baxter</span> ............. <i>Dion Boucicault</i>.<br /> +<span class="char">Claude Devenish</span> ........... <i>Dennis Neilson-Terry</i>.<br /> +<span class="char">John Tremayne</span> ............. <i>Ben Webster</i>.<br /> +<span class="char">Betty</span> ..................... <i>Anne Walden</i>.</blockquote> + +<p>The action takes place in Belinda's country-house in Devonshire at the +end of April, the first act in the garden and the second and last acts +in the hall</p> + + +<p>[Illustration]</p> + + +<h1>Belinda</h1> + + +<h2>Act I</h2> + +<p><i>It is a lovely April afternoon–a foretaste of summer–in</i> +<span class="char">Belinda's</span> <i>garden</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>, <i>a middle-aged servant, is fastening a hammock–its first +appearance this year–to a tree down</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>In front there is a +garden-table, with a deck-chair on the right of it and a straight-backed +one to the left. There are books, papers, and magazines on the +table</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>of whom we shall know more presently, is on the +other side of the open windows which look on to the garden, talking +to</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>, <i>who crosses to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of hammock, securing it to +tree</i> <span class="stage">C.</span></p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>from inside the house</i>). Are you sure you're tying it up +tightly enough, Betty?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span> (<i>coming to front of hammock</i>). Yes, ma'am; I think it's +firm.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Because I'm not the fairy I used to be.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span> (<i>testing hammock</i>). Yes, ma'am; it's quite firm this end +too.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>entering from portico with sunshade open</i>). It's not the +ends I'm frightened of; it's the middle where the weight's coming. +(<i>Comes down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and admiring</i>.) It looks very nice. (<i>She crosses +at back of wicker table, hanging her hand-bag on hammock. Closes and +places her sunshade at back of tree</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>trying the middle of it with her hand</i>). I asked them at +the Stores if they were quite <i>sure</i> it would bear me, and they +said it would take anything up to–I forget how many tons. I know I +thought it was rather rude of them. (<i>Looking at it anxiously, and +trying to get in, first with her right leg and then her left</i>.) How +does one get in! So trying to be a sailor!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. I think you sit in it, ma'am, and then (<i>explaining with her +hands</i>) throw your legs over.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I see. (<i>She sits gingerly in the hammock, and then, with a +sudden flutter of white, does what</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>suggests</i>.) Yes. +(<i>Regretfully</i>.) I'm afraid that was rather wasted on you, Betty. +We must have some spectators next time.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yea, ma'am</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Cushions.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>moves to and takes a cushion from deck-chair</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>assists her to place it at back of her head</i>. <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>then goes +to back of hammock and arranges</i> <span class="char">Belinda's</span> <i>dress</i>.)</p> + +<p>There! Now then, Betty, about callers.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. If Mr. Baxter calls–he is the rather prim gentleman—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yea, ma'am; the one who's been here several times before. +(<i>Moves to below and</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of hammock</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>giving</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>a quick look</i>). Yes. Well, if he +calls, you'll say, "Not at home."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. He will say (<i>imitating</i> <span class="char">Mr. Baxter</span>), "Oh–er–oh–er–really." Then you'll smile very sweetly and say, "I beg your pardon, was +it Mr. <i>Baxter</i>?" And he'll say, "Yes!" and you'll say, "Oh, I beg +your pardon, sir; <i>this</i> way, please."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. That's right, Betty. Well now, if Mr. Devenish calls–he is the +rather poetical gentleman—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am; the one who's <i>always</i> coming here.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a pleased smile</i>). Yes. Well, if he calls you'll +say, "Not at home."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. He'll immediately (<i>extending her arms descriptively</i>) +throw down his bunch of flowers and dive despairingly into the moat. +You'll stop him, just as he is going in, and say, "I beg your pardon, +sir, was it Mr. <i>Devenish</i>?" And he will say, "Yes!" and you will +say, "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir; <i>this</i> way, please."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am. And suppose they both call together?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>non-plussed for a moment</i>). We won't suppose anything so +exciting, Betty.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. No, ma'am. And suppose any other gentleman calls?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a sigh</i>). There aren't any other gentlemen.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. It might be a clergyman, come to ask for a subscription like.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. If it's a clergyman, Betty, I shall–I shall want your +assistance out of the hammock first.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. That's all.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>crosses below table and chairs to porch</i>.)</p> + +<p>To anybody else I'm not at home, (<i>Trying to secure book on table and +nearly falling out of the hammock</i>.) Oh, just give me that little +green book. (<i>Pointing to books on the table</i>.) The one at the +bottom there–that's the one. (<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>gives it to her</i>.) Thank you. +(<i>Reading the title</i>.) "The Lute of Love," by Claude Devenish. +(<i>To herself as she turns the pages</i>.) It doesn't seem much for +half-a-crown when you think of the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> .... Lute ... +Lute .... I should have quite a pretty mouth if I kept on saying that. +(<i>With a great deal of expression</i>.) Lute! (<i>She pats her mouth +back</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Is that all, ma'am?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. That's all. (<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>prepares to go</i>.) Oh, what am I +thinking of! (<i>Waving to the table</i>.) I want that review; I think +it's the blue one. (<i>As</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>begins to look</i>.) It has an +article by Mr. Baxter on the "Rise of Lunacy in the Eastern Counties"—</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>gives her "The Nineteenth Century" Magazine</i>.)</p> + +<p>–yes, that's the one. I'd better have that too; I'm just at the most +exciting place. You shall have it after <i>me</i>, Betty.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Is that all, ma'am?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, that really is all.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>goes into the house</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reading to herself very pronouncedly</i>). "It is a matter of +grave concern to all serious students of social problems–" (<i>Putting +the review down in hammock and shaking her head gently</i>.) But not in +April. (<i>Lazily opening the book and reading</i>.) "Tell me where is +love"–well, that's the question, isn't it? (<i>She lies back in the +hammock lazily and the book of poems falls from her to the ground</i>. +<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>comes into the garden, from Paris. She is decidedly a modern +girl, pretty and self-possessed. Her hair is half-way up; waiting for +her birthday, perhaps. She sees her mother suddenly, stops, and then +goes on tiptoe to the head of the hammock. She smiles and kisses her +mother on the forehead</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>looking supremely unconscious, +goes on sleeping</i>. <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>kisses her lightly again</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>wakes up with an extraordinarily natural start, and is just about to +say</i>, "Oh, Mr. Devenish–you mustn't!"–<i>when she sees</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.) +Delia! (<i>They kiss each other frantically</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Well, mummy, aren't you glad to see me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. My darling child!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Say you're glad.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>sitting up</i>). My darling, I'm absolutely–(<span class="char">Delia</span> +<i>crosses round to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of hammock</i>.) Hold the hammock while I +get out, dear; we don't want an accident. (<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>holds the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> +<i>end of it and</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>struggles out, leaving the magazine and +her handkerchief in the hammock</i>.) They're all right when you're +there, and they'll bear two tons, but they're horrid getting in and out +of. (<i>Kissing her again</i>.) Darling, it really <i>is</i> you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, it is jolly seeing you again. I believe you were asleep.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with dignity</i>). Certainly not, child. I was reading +<i>The Nineteenth Century</i>–(<i>with an air</i>)–and after. (<i>Earnestly</i>) Darling, +wasn't it next Thursday you were coming back?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. No, this Thursday, silly.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>penitently</i>). Oh, my darling, and I was going over to +Paris to bring you home.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I half expected you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. So confusing their both being called Thursday. And you were +leaving school for the very last time. If you don't forgive me, Delia, I +shall cry.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>kissing her and stroking her hand fondly</i>). Silly mother!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>sits down in the deck-chair and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>sits on the +table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Isn't it a lovely day for April, darling! I've wanted to say +that to somebody all day, and you're the first person who's given me the +chance. Oh, I said it to Betty, but she only said, "Yes, ma'am."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Poor mother!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>jumping up suddenly, crossing to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of and +kissing</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>again</i>). I simply must have another one. And to +think that you're never going back to school any more. (<i>Looking at +her fondly, and backing to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>) Darling, you <i>are</i> looking +pretty.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Am I?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Lovely. (<i>She kisses her once more, then she takes the +cushion from the hammock, moves at back of table and places it on the +head of the deck-chair</i>.) And now you're going to stay with me for +just as long as you want a mother. (<i>Anxiously moving to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of +deckchair</i>.) Darling, you didn't mind being sent away to school, did +you? It <i>is</i> the usual thing, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Silly mother! of course it is.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>relieved, and sitting on deck-chair</i>). I'm so glad you +think so too.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Have you been very lonely without me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a sly look at</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>). Very.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>turning to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and holding up a finger</i>). The +truth, mummy!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I've missed you horribly, Delia. (<i>Primly</i>.) The absence +of female companionship of the requisite—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Are you really all alone?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>smiling mysteriously and coyly</i>). Well, not always, of +course.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>excitedly, at she slips off the table, and backing to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> +<i>a little</i>). Mummy, I believe you're being bad again.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Really, darling, you forget that I'm old enough to be–in fact, +am–your mother.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>nodding her head</i>). You are being bad.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>rising with dignity and drawing herself up to her full +height, moving</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>). My child, that is not the way to–Oh, I say, +what a lot taller I am than you! (<i>Turning her back to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> +<i>and comparing sizes</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. And prettier.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>playfully rubbing noses with</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>). Oh, do you think +so? (<i>Firmly, but pleased</i>.) Don't be silly, child.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>holding up a finger</i>). Now tell me all that's been +happening here at once.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a sigh</i>). And I was just going to ask you how you +were getting on with your French. (<i>Sits in deck-chair</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Bother French! You've been having a much more interesting time +than I have, so you've got to tell.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a happy sigh</i>). O-oh! (<i>She sinks back into her +chair</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>taking off her coat</i>). Is it like the Count at Scarborough?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>surprised and pained</i>). My darling, what do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Don't you remember the Count who kept proposing to you at +Scarborough? I do. (<i>Places coat on hammock</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reproachfully</i>). Dear one, you were the merest child, +paddling about on the beach and digging castles.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>smiling to herself</i>). I was old enough to notice the Count.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>sadly</i>). And I'd bought her a perfectly new spade! How +one deceives oneself!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>at table and leaning across, with hands on table</i>). And +then there was the M.P. who proposed at Windermere.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, dear, but it wasn't seconded–I mean he never got very far +with it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. And the artist in Wales.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Darling child, what a memory you have. No wonder your teachers +are pleased with you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>settling herself comfortably in deck-chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> +<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and lying in her arms</i>). Now tell me all about this one.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>meekly</i>). Which one?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Oh, are there lots?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>severely</i>). Only two.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Two! You abandoned woman!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. It's something in the air, darling. I've never been in +Devonshire in April before.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Is it really serious this time?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>pained</i>). I wish you wouldn't say this time, Delia. It +sounds so unromantic. If you'd only put it into French–<i>cette +fois</i>–it sounds so much better. <i>Cette fois</i>. (<i>Parentally</i>.) +When one's daughter has just returned from an expensive schooling in +Paris, one likes to feel—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. What I meant, dear, was, am I to have a stepfather at last?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Now you're being too French, darling.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Why, do you still think father may be alive?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Why not? It's only eighteen years since he left us, and he was +quite a young man then.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Yes, but surely, surely you'd have heard from him in all those +years, if he'd been alive?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, he hasn't heard from <i>me</i>, and I'm still alive.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>looking earnestly at her mother, rises and moves</i> <span class="stage">L.C.</span>). I +shall never understand it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Understand what?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Were you as heavenly when you were young as you are now?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>rapturously</i>). Oh, I was sweet!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. And yet he left you after only six months.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>rather crossly, sitting up</i>). I wish you wouldn't keep on +saying he left me. I left him too.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>running to and kneeling in front of</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and looking +anxiously into her face</i>). Why?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>smiling to herself</i>). Well, you see, he was quite certain +he knew how to manage women, and I was quite certain I knew how to +manage men. (<i>Thoughtfully</i>.) If only one of us had been certain, +it would have been all right.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>seriously</i>). What really happened, mummy? I'm grown up now, +so I think you ought to tell me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>thoughtfully</i>). That was about all, you know ... except +for his beard.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Had he a beard? (<i>Laughing</i>.) How funny!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>roaring with laughter, in which</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>joins</i>). +Yes, dear, it was; but he never would see it. He took it quite +seriously.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. And did you say dramatically, "If you really loved me, you'd take +it off"?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>apologetically</i>). I'm afraid I did, darling.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. And what did he say?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. He said–<i>very</i> rudely–that, if I loved <i>him</i>, I'd +do my hair in a different way.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>sinks down on her haunches, facing the audience</i>). How +ridiculous!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>touching her hair</i>). Of course, I didn't do it like this +then. I suppose we never ought to have married, really.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Why did you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Mother rather wanted it. (<i>Solemnly</i>.) Delia, never get +married because your mother— Oh, I forgot; <i>I'm</i> your mother.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. And I don't want a better one ... (<i>They embrace</i>.) And so +you left each other?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. But, darling, didn't you tell him there was going to be a Me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh no!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I wonder why not?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, you see, if I had, he might have wanted to stay.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. But—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>hurt</i>). If he didn't want to stay for <i>me</i>, I didn't +want him to stay for <i>you</i>. (<i>Penitently</i>.) Forgive me, darling, +but I didn't know you very well then. We've been very happy together, +haven't we?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>going to the hammock, sitting in it and dangling her +legs</i>). I should think we have.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>leaning back in chair</i>). I don't want to deny you +anything, and, of course, if you'd like a stepfather (<i>looking down +modestly</i>) or two—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, you <i>have</i> been enjoying yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Only you see how awkward it would be if Jack turned up in the +middle of the wedding, like–like Eugene Aram.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Enoch Arden, darling.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. It's very confusing their having the same initials. Perhaps I'd +better call them both E. A. in future and then I shall be safe. Well, +anyhow it would be awkward, darling, wouldn't it? Not that I should know +him from Adam after all these years–except for a mole on his left arm.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Perhaps Adam had a mole.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. No, darling; you're thinking of Noah. He had two.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>thoughtfully</i>). I wonder what would happen if you met +somebody whom you really <i>did</i> fall in love with?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reproachfully</i>). Now you're being serious, and it's +April.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Aren't these two–the present two–serious?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh no! They think they are, but they aren't a bit, really. +Besides, I'm doing them such a lot of good. I'm sure they'd hate to +marry me, but they love to think they're in love with me, and–<i>I</i> +love it, and–and <i>they</i> love it, and–and we <i>all</i> love it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>rising and crossing to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). You really are the +biggest, darlingest baby who ever lived. (<i>Kisses her</i>.) Do say I +shan't spoil your lovely times.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Spoil them? Why, you'll make them more +lovely than ever.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>turning away and sitting on table</i>). Well, but do they know +you have a grown-up daughter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>suddenly realizing and sitting up</i>). Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. It doesn't really matter, because you don't look a day more than +thirty.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>absently</i>). No. (<i>Hurriedly</i>.) I mean, how sweet of +you–only—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. What!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>playing with her rings</i>). Well, one of them, Mr. Baxter–Harold–(<i>she looks quickly up at</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and down again in +pretty affectation, but she is really laughing at herself all the +time</i>) he writes statistical articles for the Reviews–percentages +and all those things. He's just the sort of man, if he knew that I was +your mother, to work it out that I was more than thirty. The other one, +Mr. Devenish–Claude–(<i>she looks up and down as before</i>) he's +rather, rather poetical. He thinks I came straight from heaven–last +week.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>laughing and jumping up and crossing below deck-chair to</i> +<span class="stage">R.</span> <i>towards house</i>). I think <i>I'd</i> better go straight back to +Paris.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>jumping up and catching her firmly by the left arm</i>). You +will do nothing of the sort. (<i>Pulling</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>back to centre</i>.) +You will take off that hat–(<i>she lets go of the arm and begins to +take out the pin</i>) which is a perfect duck, and I don't know why I +didn't say so before–(<i>she puts the hat down on the table</i>) and +let me take a good look at you (<i>she does so</i>), and kiss you (<i>she +does so, then crosses</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>below her and takes her towards the +house</i>), and then we'll go to your room and unpack and have a lovely +talk about clothes. And then we'll have tea.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>comes in and stands up at back</i>.)</p> + +<p>And now here's Betty coming in to upset all our delightful plans, just +when we'vt made them. (<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>are now on</i> <span class="char">Betty's</span> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>leaving</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and shaking hands with</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>). How +are you, Betty? I've left school.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Very nicely, thank you, miss. (<i>Backing to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and +admiring</i>.) You've grown.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>moving to and patting the top of</i> <span class="char">Delia's</span> <i>head</i>). +I'm much taller than she is... (<i>Crossing to</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>in front +of</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.) Well, Betty, what is it?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. The two gentlemen, Mr. Baxter and Mr. Devenish, have both called +together, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>excited</i>). Oh! How–how very simultaneous of them!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>eagerly, going towards house</i>). Oh, do let me see them!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>stopping her</i>). Darling, you'll see plenty of them before +you've finished. (<i>To</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>in an exaggerated whisper</i>.) What have +you done with them?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. They're waiting in the hall, ma'am, while I said I would see if +you were at home.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. All right, Betty. Give me two minutes and then show them out +here.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>crosses below</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and exits into +the house</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>taking</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>a step</i>). They can't +do much harm to each other in two minutes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>taking her hat from table</i>). Well, I'll go and unpack. +(<i>She goes back to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>.) You really won't mind my coming down +afterwards?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Of course not. (<i>A little awkwardly, taking</i> <span class="char">Delia's</span> +<i>arm and moving down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>) Darling one, I wonder if you'd mind–just +at first–being introduced as my niece. (<i>By now at foot of deck-chair</i>.) You see, I expect they're in a bad temper already +(<i>now</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>), having come here together, and we don't want to spoil +their day entirely.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>smiling, on</i> <span class="char">Belinda's</span> <span class="stage">L.</span>). I'll be your mother if you +like.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh no, that wouldn't do, because then Mr. Baxter would feel +that he ought to ask your permission before paying his attentions to me. +He's just that sort of man. A niece is so safe–however good you are at +statistics, you can't really prove anything.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. All right, mummy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>enjoying herself</i>). You'd like to be called by a +different name, wouldn't you? There's something so thrilling about +taking a false name. Such a lot of adventures begin like that. How would +you like to be Miss Robinson, darling? It's a nice easy one to remember. +(<i>Persuasively</i>.) And you shall put your hair up so as to feel more +disguised. What fun we're going to have!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. You baby! All right, then, I'm Miss Robinson, your favourite +niece. (<i>She takes her jacket from the hammock and moves towards the +house</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How sweet of you! No, no, not that way–you'll meet them. +(<i>Following quickly up between tree and table to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>, <i>who has +now reached the house</i>.) Oh, I'm coming with you to do your hair. +(<i>Moving up</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>, <i>arm in arm with</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.) You don't think you're +going to be allowed to do it yourself, when so much depends on it, and +husbands leave you because of it, and—</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>seeing</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>entering from house, hurries</i> +<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>and they bob down behind the yew hedge</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> +<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>comes from the house into the garden, crossing to centre and up +stage looking for</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>followed by</i> <span class="char">Mr. Baxter</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Mr. Devenish</span>. +<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>gives an angry look round at</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>as he enters</i>. <span class="char">Mr. +Baxter</span> <i>is forty-five, prim and erect, with close-trimmed moustache and +side-whiskers. His clothes are dark and he wears a bowler-hat</i>. <span class="char">Mr. Devenish</span> <i>is a long-haired, good-looking boy in a négligé costume; +perhaps twenty-two years old, and very scornful of the world</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> +<i>crosses to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>below</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>, <i>and turns to her with a sharp inquiring +glance</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>moves down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>languidly admiring the garden</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span> (<i>looking about her surprised</i>). The mistress was here a +moment ago. (<i>The two heads pop up from behind the hedge and then down +again immediately</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>exeunt</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>). I expect she'll +be back directly, if you'll just wait.</p> + +<p>(<i>She goes back into the house</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>crossing to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>meets</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>who has moved +up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>is annoyed and with an impatient gesture comes down +between the tree and the table to chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and sits</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span> +<i>throws his felt hat on to the table and walks to the back of the +hammock. He sees the review in the hammock and picks it up</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Good heavens, Baxter, she's been reading your article!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I dare say she's not the only one.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. That's only guesswork (<i>going to back of table</i>); you +don't know of anyone else.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>with contempt</i>). How many people, may I ask, have bought +your poems?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>loftily</i>). I don't write for the mob.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I think I may say that of my own work.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Baxter, I don't want to disappoint you, but I have reluctantly +come to the conclusion that you are one of the mob. (<i>Throws magazine +down on table, annoyed</i>.) Dash it! what are you doing in the country +at all in a bowler-hat?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. If I wanted to be personal, I could say, "Why don't you get your +hair cut?" Only that form of schoolboy humour doesn't appeal to me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. This is not a personal matter; I am protesting on behalf of +nature. (<i>Leaning against tree</i>.) What do the birds and the flowers +and the beautiful trees think of your hat?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. If one began to ask oneself what the <i>birds</i> thought of +things–(<i>He pauses</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Well, and why shouldn't one ask oneself? It is better than +asking oneself what the Stock Exchange thinks of things.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Well (<i>looking up at</i> <span class="char">Devenish's</span> <i>extravagant hair</i>), +it's the nesting season. Your hair! (<i>Suddenly</i>.) Ha! ha! ha! ha! +ha! ha!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>hastily smoothing it down</i>). Really, Baxter, you're +vulgar. (<i>He turns away and resumes his promenading, going down <span class="stage">R.</span> and +then round deck-chair to front of hammock. Suddenly he sees his book on +the grass beneath the hammock and makes a dash for it</i>.) Ha, my book! +(<i>Gloating over it</i>.) Baxter, she reads my book.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I suppose you gave her a copy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (exultingly). Yes, I gave her a copy. My next book will be hers +and hers alone.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Then let me say that, in my opinion, you took a very great +liberty.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Liberty! And this from a man who is continually forcing his +unwelcome statistics upon her.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. At any rate, I flatter myself that there is no suggestion of +impropriety in anything that <i>I</i> write.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I'm not so sure about that, Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. What do you mean, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Did you read The Times this month on the new reviews!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Well!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Oh, nothing. It just said, "Mr. Baxter's statistics are +extremely suggestive."</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>makes a gesture of annoyance</i>.)</p> + +<p>I haven't read them, so of course I don't know what you've been up to.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>rising, turning away in disgust and crossing up</i> L). Pah!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Poor old Baxter! (<i>Puts book of poems down on table and +crosses below chair and gathers a daffodil from a large vase down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> +<i>and saying</i> "Poor old Baxter!" <i>ad lib</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>moves round back +of hammock and to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>collides with</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>and much annoyed +goes down between table and tree towards chair down</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>) Baxter–(<i>moving to and leaning against tree</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>turning to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>crossly</i>). I wish you wouldn't +keep calling me "Baxter."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Harold.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>displays annoyance, and continues his walk to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. It is only by accident–an accident which we both deplore–that +we have met at all, and in any case I am a considerably older man than +yourself. (<i>Sits</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Mr. Baxter–father–(<i>gesture of annoyance from</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>)–I have a proposal to make. We will leave it to this beautiful flower to +decide which of us the lady loves.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>turning round</i>). Eh?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>pulling off the petals</i>). She loves me, she loves Mr. +Baxter, she loves me, she loves Mr. Baxter–(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>appears in the +porch</i>)–Heaven help her!–she loves me—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coming down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>). What are you doing, Mr. Devenish!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>throwing away the flower and bowing very low</i>). My lady.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>rises quickly</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (removing his bowler-hat stiffly). Good afternoon, Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p>(<i>She gives her left hand to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>who kisses it, and her +right to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>who shakes it</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How nice of you both to come!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Mr. Devenish and I are inseparable–apparently.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You haven't told me what you were doing, Mr. Devenish. Was it +(<i>plucking an imaginary flower</i>) "This year, next year?" or "Silk, +satin–"</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. My lady, it was even more romantic than that. I have the +honour to announce to your ladyship that Mr. Baxter is to be a sailor. +(<i>Dances round imitating the hornpipe</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>). Doesn't he talk nonsense?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. He'll grow out of it. I did.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>moving down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and then to centre towards +hammock</i>). Oh, I hope not. I love talking nonsense, and I'm ever so +old. (<i>As they both start forward to protest</i>.) Now which one of +you will say it first?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. You are as old as the stars and as young as the dawn.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. You are ten years younger than I am.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. What sweet things to say! I don't know which I like best. + +<span class="char">Devenish</span>. Where will my lady sit!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with an exaggerated curtsy</i>). I will recline in the +hammock, an it please thee, my lord—</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>goes to the right of the hammock, saying</i> "Allow me." +<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>moves to the left of the hammock and holds it, takes up a +cushion which</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>snatches from him and places in hammock +again</i>.)</p> + +<p>–only it's rather awkward getting in, Mr. Baxter. Perhaps you'd both +better look at the tulips for a moment.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Oh–ah–yes. (<i>Crosses down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>turns his back to the +hammock and examines the flowers</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (leaning over her). If only—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You'd better not say anything, Mr. Devenlsh. Keep it for your +next volume. (<i>He turns away and examines flowers on</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>She +sits on hammock</i>.) One, two, three–(<i>throws her legs over</i>)–that was better than last time. (<i>They turn round to see her safely in +the hammock</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>leans against the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>tree at her feet, +and</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>draws the deck-chair from the right side of the table +and turns it round towards her. He presses his hat more firmly on +and sits down</i>.) I wonder if either of you can guess what I've been +reading this afternoon!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>looking at her lovingly</i>). I know.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>giving him a fleeting look</i>). How did you know?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Well, I—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>). Yes, Mr. Baxter, it was your article I was +reading. If you'd come five minutes earlier you'd have found me +wrestling–I mean revelling in it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I am very greatly honoured, Mrs. Tremayne. Ah–it seemed to me a +very interesting curve showing the rise and fall of—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I hadn't got up to the curves. They <i>are</i> interesting, +aren't they? They are really more in Mr. Devenish's line. (<i>To</i> +<span class="char">Devenish</span>.) Mr. Devenish, it was a great disappointment to me that all +the poems in your book seemed to be written to somebody else.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. It was before I met you, lady. They were addressed to the +goddess of my imagination. It is only in these last few weeks that I +have discovered her.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. And discovered she was dark and not fair.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. She will be dark in my next volume.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, how nice of her!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>kindly</i>). You should write a real poem to Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Oh do! "To Belinda." I don't know what +rhymes, except cinder. You could say your heart was like a cinder–all +burnt up.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>pained</i>). Oh, my lady, I'm afraid that is a cockney +rhyme.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How thrilling! I've never been to Hampstead Heath.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. "Belinda." It is far too beautiful to rhyme with anything but +itself.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Fancy! But what about Tremayne? (<i>Singing</i>.) Oh, I am Mrs. +Tremayne, and I don't want to marry again.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>protesting</i>). My lady!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>protesting</i>). Belinda!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>pointing excitedly to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>). There, that's the first +time he's called me Belinda! This naughty boy–(<i>indicating</i> +<span class="char">Devenish</span>)–is always doing it–by accident.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Are you serious?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Not as a rule.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. You're not going to marry again?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, who could I marry?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> and <span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>together</i>). Me!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dropping her eyes modestly</i>). But this is England.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>rising and taking off his hat, which he places on table, and +going up to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). Mrs. Tremayne, I claim the right of age–of my +greater years–to speak first.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Mrs. Tremayne, I—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>kindly to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). You can speak afterwards, Mr. +Devenish. It's so awkward when you both speak together. (<i>To</i> +<span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>giving encouragement</i>.) Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving down a little and then returning to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). Mrs. +Tremayne, I am a man of substantial position–(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>sniggers–to</i> <span class="char">Baxter's</span> <i>great annoyance</i>.) and perhaps I may say of some +repute in serious circles.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>sniggers again</i>.)</p> + +<p>All that I have, whether of material or mental endowment, I lay at your +feet, together with an admiration which I cannot readily put into words. +As my wife I think you would be happy, and I feel that with you by my +side I could achieve even greater things.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How sweet of you! But I ought to tell you that I'm no good at +figures.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>protesting</i>). My lady—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I don't mean what you mean, Mr. Devenish. You wait till it's +your turn. (<i>To</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>.) Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>very formally</i>). I ask you to marry me, Belinda.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>settling herself happily and closing her eyes</i>). O-oh!... +Now it's <i>your</i> turn, Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Money–thank Heaven, I have no money. +Reputation–thank Heaven, I have no reputation.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>very annoyed, moves down and sits on deck-chair</i>.)</p> + +<p>What can I offer you? Dreams–nothing but dreams. Come with me and I +will show you the world through my dreams. What can I give you? Youth, +freedom, beauty—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Debts.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>still with her eyes shut</i>). You mustn't interrupt, Mr. +Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>leaning across hammock</i>). Belinda, marry me and I will +open your eyes to the beauty of the world. Come to me!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>happily</i>). O-oh! You've got such different ways of +putting things. How can I choose between you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Then you will marry one of us?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You know I really <i>oughtn't</i> to.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I don't see why not.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, there's just a little difficulty in the way.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. What is it? I will remove it. For you I could remove anything +–yes, even Baxter. (<i>He looks at</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>who is sitting more +solidly than ever in his chair</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. And anyhow I should have to choose between you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>in a whisper</i>), choose me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>stiffly</i>). Mrs. Tremayne does not require any prompting. A +fair field and let the best man win.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>going across to and slapping the astonished</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> +<i>on the back</i>). Aye, let the best man win! Well spoken, Baxter. +(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>is very annoyed. To</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and going back to her</i> +<span class="stage">L.</span>) Send us out into the world upon some knightly quest, lady, and let +the victor be rewarded.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I–er–ought to say that I should be unable to go very far. I +have an engagement to speak at Newcastle on the 2lst.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Baxter, I will take no unfair advantage of you. Let the beard +of the Lord Mayor of Newcastle be the talisman that my lady demands; I +am satisfied.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. This sort of thing is entirely contrary to my usual mode of +life, but I will not be outfaced by a mere boy. (<i>Rising</i>.) I am +prepared. (<i>Going to her</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Speak, lady.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>speaking in a deep, mysterious voice</i>). Gentlemen, ye put +wild thoughts into my head. In sooth, I <i>am</i> minded to send ye +forth upon a quest that is passing strange. Know ye that there is a maid +journeyed hither, hight Robinson–whose–(<i>in her natural voice</i>) +what's the old for aunt?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>hopefully</i>). Mother's sister.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You know, I think I shall have to explain this in ordinary +language. You won't mind very much, will you, Mr. Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. It is the spirit of this which matters, not the language +which clothes it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, I'm so glad you think so. Well, now about Miss Robinson. +She's my niece and she's just come to stay with me, and–poor girl–she's lost her father. Absolutely lost him. He disappeared ever such a +long time ago, and poor Miss Robinson–Delia–naturally wants to find +him. Poor girl! she <i>can't</i> think where he is.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>nobly</i>). I will find him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, thank you, Mr. Devenish; Miss Robinson would be so much +obliged.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes–er–but what have we to go upon? Beyond the fact that his +name is Robinson—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I shouldn't go on <i>that</i> too much. You see, he may easily +have changed it by now. He was never very much of a Robinson. Nothing to +do with Peter or any of those.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I will find him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>with a look of annoyance at</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). Well, can you tell +us what he's like?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, it's such a long time since I saw him. (<i>Looking down +modestly</i>.) Of course, I was quite a girl then. The only thing I know +for certain is that he has a mole on his left arm about here. (<i>She +indicates a spot just below the elbow</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>examines it +closely</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>folding his arms and looking nobly upwards</i>). I will +find him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I am bound to inform you, Mrs. Tremayne, that even a trained +detective could not give you very much hope in such a case. However, I +will keep a look-out for him, and, of course, if—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Fear not, lady, I will find him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>annoyed</i>). Yes, you keep on saying that, but what have you +got to go on?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>grandly</i>). Faith! The faith which moves mountains.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, and this is only just one small mole-hill, Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes, but still—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. S'sh! here is Miss Robinson.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>takes up his hat and moves below the deck-chair to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> +<i>to meet</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.)</p> + +<p>If Mr. Devenish will hold the hammock while I alight–we don't want an +accident—</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>comes out of the house</i>.)</p> + +<p>–I can introduce you. (<i>He helps her to get out, holding the +hammock</i>.) Thank you. Delia darling (<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>moves down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>) this +is Mr. Baxter,–and Mr. Devenish. My niece, Miss Robinson—</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>shakes hands with</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>and moves to</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>below</i> +<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and shakes hands with</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. How do you do?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Miss Robinson has just come over from France. <i>Man Dieu, quel +pays!</i></p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I hope you had a good crossing, Miss Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, I never mind about the crossing. (<i>Very slowly and +shyly</i>.) Aunt Belinda–(<i>She stops and smiles</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, dear?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I believe tea is almost ready. I want mine, and I'm sure Mr. +Baxter's hungry. (<i>He sniggers approvingly</i>.) Mr. Devenish scorns +food, I expect.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>hurt</i>). Why do you say that?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Aren't you a poet?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, darling, but that doesn't prevent him eating. He'll be +absolutely lyrical over Betty's sandwiches.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. You won't deny me that inspiration, I hope, Miss Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>taking</i> <span class="char">Delia's</span> <i>arm and moving with her to below deck-chair</i>). Well, let's go and see what they're like.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>moves up</i> <span class="stage">R.C.</span> <i>to below the porch, accompanied by</i> +<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>on her</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>who follows her on +her</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>They all move towards the porch</i>.)</p> + +<p>Mr. Baxter, just a moment.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>apologizing to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and moving in front of the others +to back of deck-chair</i>.) Yes?</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>gathers a daffodil from a vase</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and places it in</i> +<span class="char">Devenish's</span> <i>buttonhole</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>secretly</i>). Not a word to her about Mr. Robinson. It must +be a surprise for her.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Quite so, I understand.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. That's right. (<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>rejoins</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>. <i>Raising her +voice</i>.) Oh, Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>who is evidently much attracted by</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>, +<i>apologizes to her and goes back between tree and hammock to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> +<span class="char">Belinda</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Yes, Mrs. Tremayne?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>secretly</i>). Not a word to her about Mr. Robinson. It must +be a surprise for her.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Of course! I shouldn't dream–(<i>Indignantly</i>.) +Robinson! What an unsuitable name!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>are just going into the house</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dismissing</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). All right, I'll catch you up. +(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>goes after the other two</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<i>Left alone</i>, <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>laughs happily to herself, and then +begins to look rather aimlessly about her. She picks up her sunshade +and opens it. She comes to the hammock, picks out her handkerchief, +says, "Ah, there you are!" and puts it away. She goes slowly towards +the house</i>. <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>enters from</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and with his back to +the audience tries latch of imaginary gate below scenic painted +gateway</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>turns her head, hearing imaginary click of the +garden gate</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>She comes slowly back</i> <span class="stage">R.C.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>seeing</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>). Have you lost yourself, or something? +No; the latch is this side. ... Yes, that's right.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>comes in. He has been knocking about the world for +eighteen years, and is very much a man, though he has kept his manners. +His hair is greying a little at the sides, and he looks the forty-odd +that he is. Without his moustache and beard he is very different from +the boy</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>married</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> ( <i>with his hat in his hand</i> ). I'm afraid I'm +trespassing.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>winningly, moving down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>a little</i> ). But it's +such a pretty garden (<i>turns away, dosing her parasol</i>), isn't it?</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span>, <i>half recognizing her, moves to back of hammock and leans +across to obtain a better view of her</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>rather confused</i>). I-I beg your pardon, I-er— (<i>He +is wondering if it can possibly be she</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>thinks his +confusion is due to the fact that he is trespassing, and hastens to put +him at his ease</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I should have done the same myself, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>pulling himself together</i>). Oh, but you mustn't think I +just came in because I liked the garden—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>clapping her hands</i>). No; but say you do like it, quick.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. It's lovely and— (<i>He hesitates</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>hopefully</i>). Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>with conviction</i>). Yes, it's lovely. <span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with +that happy sigh of hers</i>). O-oh! ... Now tell me what really did +happen?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I was on my way to Marytown—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. To where?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Marytown.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, you mean Mariton.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Do I?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes; we always call it Mariton down here. (<i>Earnestly</i>.) +You don't mind, do you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Not a bit.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Just say it–to see if you've got it right.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Mariton.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>shaking her head</i>). Oh no, that's quite wrong. Try it +again (<i>With a rustic accent</i>.) Mariton.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Mariton.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, that's much better .... (<i>As if it were he who had +interrupted</i>.) Well, do go on.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I'm afraid it isn't much of an apology really. I saw what +looked like a private road (<i>points</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>), but what I rather hoped +wasn't, and–well, I thought I'd risk it. I do hope you'll forgive me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, but I love people seeing my garden. Are you staying in +Mariton?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I think so. Oh yes, decidedly.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, perhaps the next time the road won't feel so private.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. How charming of you! (<i>He feels he must know. A piano is +heard off playing "Belinda." The tune is continued until the fall of the +curtain</i>.) Are you Mrs. Tremayne by any chance?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>nodding to himself</i>). Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How did <i>you</i> know?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>hastily inventing, moving down</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>below the +hammock</i>). They use you as a sign-post in the village. Past Mrs. +Tremayne'a house and then bear to the left—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. And you couldn't go past it?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I'm afraid I couldn't. Thank you so much for not minding. +(<i>Going up to the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of her</i>.) Well, I must be getting on, I +have trespassed quite enough.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>regretfully</i>). And you haven't really seen the garden +yet.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. If you won't mind my going on this way, I shall see some more +on my way out.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Please do. It likes being looked at. (<i>With the faintest +suggestion of demureness</i>.) All pretty things do.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Thank you very much. (<i>Turns to go up c</i>.) Er–(<i>He +hesitates</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>helpfully</i>). Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I wonder if you'd mind very much if I called one day to thank +you formally for the lesson you gave me in pronunciation?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>gravely</i>). Yes. I almost think you ought to. I think it's +the correct thing to do.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>contentedly</i>). Thank you very much, Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You'll come in quite formally (<i>pointing to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>with +her sunshade</i>) by the front-door next time, won't you, because–because that seems the only chance of my getting to know your name.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Oh, I beg your pardon. My name is–er–er–Robinson.</p> + +<p>(<i>She is highly amused and looks round towards the house, recalling to +her mind</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>laughing</i>). How very odd!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>startled</i>). Odd?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes; we have some one called Robinson (<i>nodding towards the +house</i>) staying in the house. I wonder if she is any relation?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>hastily</i>). Oh no, no. No, she couldn't be. I have no +relations called Robinson–not to speak of.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You must tell me all about your relations when you come and +call, Mr. Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I think we can find something better worth talking about than +that.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Do you think so? (<i>He says "Yes" with his eyes, bows, and +moves up</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>The piano is now forte. <span class="char">Belinda</span> accompanies him up a +little, then stops. He turns in entrance up <span class="stage">C.</span>, and they exchange +glances</i>. <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>exits to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>behind yew hedge. <span class="char">Belinda</span> +stays looking after him, then moves down to back of table and picking up +the book of poems, gives that happy sigh of hers, only even more +so</i>.) O-oh!</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>from porch</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. If you please, ma'am, Miss Delia says, are you coming in to tea?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>looking straight in front of her, and taking no notice +of</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>, <i>in a happy, dreamy voice</i>). Betty, ... about +callers .... If Mr. Robinson calls–he's the handsome gentleman who +hasn't been here before (<i>puts book down</i>)–you will say, "Not at +home." And he will say, "Oh!" And you will say, "I beg your pardon, +sir, was it Mr. Robinson?" And he will say, "Yes!" And you will say, +"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir–" (<i>Almost as if she were <span class="char">Betty</span>, she +begins to move towards the house</i>.) "This way–" (<i>she would be +smiling an invitation over her shoulder to</i> <span class="char">Mr. Robinson</span>, <i>if he +were there, and she were</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>)–"please!" (<i>And the abandoned +woman goes in to tea</i>.)</p> + +<p style="text-align: center; font-variant: small-caps">Curtain</p> + + +<h2>Act II</h2> + + +<p><i>It is morning in</i> <span class="char">Belinda's</span> <i>hall, a low-roofed, oak-beamed +place, comfortably furnished as a sitting-room. There is an inner and an +outer front-door, both of which are open. Up</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>is a door leading +to a small room where hats and coats are kept. A door on the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> +<i>leads towards the living-rooms</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>enters from up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>at back, passes the windows of the +inner room and crosses to the porch. He rings the electric bell outside, +then enters through the swing doors</i> <span class="stage">R.C.</span> <span class="char">Betty</span> <i>enters</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> +<i>and moves up at back of settee</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>by the swing +doors. He is carrying a large bunch of violets and adopts a very aesthetic +attitude</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Good morning, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Good morning. I am afraid this is an unceremonious hour for a +call, but my sense of beauty urged me hither in defiance of convention.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>holding up his bouquet to</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>). See, the dew is yet +lingering upon them; how could I let them wait until this afternoon?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Yes, sir; but I think the mistress is out.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. They are not for your mistress; they are for Miss Delia.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. If you will come in, I'll see if I +can find her. (<i>She crosses to the door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and goes away to +find</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>, <i>dosing the door after her</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>tries a number of poses about the room for himself and hit +bouquet. He crosses below the table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>and sits</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of it +and is about to place his elbow on the table when he finds the toy dog +which has been placed there is in his way. He removes it to the centre +of the table and then leans with his elbow on table and finds this pose +unsuitable so he crosses to above the fireplace and leans against the +upper portico, resting on his elbow which slips and nearly prostrates +him. He then crosses up to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of the cupboard door at back centre +and leans on his elbow against the wall</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>from the door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>shutting the door and going to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). Oh, good +morning, Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p>[Illustration :]</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>kisses her hand</i>.)</p> + +<p>I'm afraid my–er–aunt is out.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I know, Miss Delia, I know.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. She'll be so sorry to have missed you. It is her day for you, +isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Her day for me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Yes; Mr. Baxter generally comes to-morrow, doesn't he?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>jealously</i>). Miss Delia, if our friendship is to +progress at all, it can only be on the distinct understanding that I +take no interest whatever (<i>coming to back of table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>) in Mr. +Baxter's movements.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>moving down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>a little</i>). Oh, I'm so sorry; I +thought you knew. What lovely flowers! Are they for my aunt?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. To whom does one bring violets? To modest, shrinking, tender +youth.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I don't think we have anybody here like that.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>with a bow and holding out the violets to her</i>). Miss +Delia, they are for you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>smelling and taking violets</i>). Oh, how nice of you! But I'm +afraid I oughtn't to take them from you under false pretences; I don't +shrink.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. A fanciful way of putting it, perhaps. They are none the less +for you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Well, it's awfully kind of you. (<i>Puts flowers down. Then she +moves up to the cupboard. He follows on her</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and opens the +door</i>.) I'm afraid I'm not a very romantic person. (<i>Turning to him +in cupboard doorway</i>.) Aunt Belinda does all the romancing in our +family.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Your aunt is a very remarkable woman.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. She is. Don't you dare to say a word against her. (<i>Takes up a +vase from a chair in cupboard and shakes it as if draining it</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. My dear Miss Delia, nothing could be further from my thoughts. +Why, am I not indebted to her for that great happiness which has come to +me in these last few days?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Good gracious! and I didn't know anything +about it. (<i>Coming down to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of table with vase</i>.) But what +about poor Mr. Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>stiffly, crossing over to fireplace, very annoyed</i>). I +must beg that Mr. Baxter's name be kept out of our conversation.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>going up to table behind Chesterfield up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>). But I +thought Mr. Baxter and you were such friends.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>takes water carafe from the table and smiles at</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>–<i>which he does not see</i>.)</p> + +<p>Do tell me what's happened. (<i>Moving down to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>, +<i>she sits and arranges the flowers</i>.) I seem to have lost myself.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>coming to the back of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table and reclining on +it</i>.) What has happened, Miss Delia, is that I have learnt at last +the secret that my heart has been striving to tell me for weeks past. As +soon as I saw that gracious lady, your aunt, I knew that I was in love. +Foolishly I took it for granted that it was she for whom my heart was +thrilling. How mistaken I was! Directly you came, you opened my eyes, +and now—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Mr. Devenish, you don't say you're proposing to me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I am. I feel sure I am. (<i>Leaning towards her</i>.) Delia, I +love you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. How exciting of you!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>with a modest shrug</i>). It's nothing; I am a poet.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. You really want to marry me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Such is my earnest wish.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. But what about my aunt?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>simply</i>). She will be my aunt-in-law.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. She'll be rather surprised.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Delia, I will be frank with you. (<i>Sits</i>.) I admit that I +made Mrs. Tremayne an offer of marriage.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). You really did? Was it that first afternoon I +came?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, I wish I'd been there!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>with dignity, rising and moving to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of table</i>). +It is not my custom to propose in the presence of a third party. It is +true that on the occasion you mention a man called Baxter was on the +lawn, but I regarded him no more than the old apple-tree or the flower-beds, or any other of the fixtures.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. What did she say?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. She accepted me conditionally.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, do tell me!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. It is rather an unhappy story. This man called Baxter in his +vulgar way also made a proposal of marriage. Mrs. Tremayne was gracious +enough to imply that she would marry whichever one of us fulfilled a +certain condition.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. How sweet of her!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. It is my earnest hope, Miss Delia, that the man called Baxter +will be the victor. As far as is consistent with honour, I shall +endeavour to let Mr. Baxter (<i>banging the table with his hand</i>) +win.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. What was the condition?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. That I am not at liberty to tell.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. It is, I understand, to be a surprise for you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. How exciting! (<i>Rising and taking vase of violets which she +places up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>) Mr. Devenish, you have been very frank (<i>coming to +front of settee</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and sitting</i>). May I be equally so?</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>crosses to her and bows in acquiescence</i>.) Why do you +wear your hair so long?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>pleased</i>). You have noticed it?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Well, yes, I have.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I wear it so to express my contempt for the conventions of +so-called society. <span class="char">Delia</span>. I always thought that people wore it very +very short if they despised the conventions of society.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I think that the mere fact that my hair annoys Mr. Baxter is +sufficient justification for its length.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. But if it annoys me too?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>heroically</i>). It shall go. (<i>Sits on settee above</i> +<span class="char">Delia</span>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>enters from up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>with a garden basket supposed to +contain cutlets. She crosses the windows at back</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>apologetically</i>). I told you I wasn't a very romantic +person, didn't I? (<i>Kindly</i>.) You can always grow it again if you +fall in love with somebody else.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. That is cruel of you, Delia. I shall never fall in love again.</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>through swing doors</i> <span class="stage">B.C.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Why, it's Mr. Devenish!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>rises and kisses her hand somewhat sheepishly</i>.)</p> + +<p>How nice of you to come so early in the morning! How is Mr. Baxter!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>annoyed and crossing behind</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>to her</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>). +I do not know, Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coming down to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and sitting in the place vacated +by <span class="char">Devenish</span></i>). I got most of the things, Delia. (<i>To</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>.) +"The things," Mr. Devenish, is my rather stuffy way of referring to all +the delightful poems that you are going to eat to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I am looking forward to it immensely, Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I do hope I've got all your and Mr. Baxter's favourite dishes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>annoyed and, moving to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>foot of table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>). I'm +afraid Mr. Baxter and I are not likely to appreciate the same things.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coyly</i>). Oh, Mr. Devenish! And you were so unanimous a +few days ago.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I think Mr. Devenish. was referring entirely to things to eat.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I felt quite sad when I was buying the lamb cutlets. To think +that, only a few days before, they had been frisking about with their +mammas, and having poems written about them by Mr. Devenish. There! I'm +giving away the whole dinner. Delia, take him away before I tell him +any more.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>rises, goes to table and picks up water carafe which she +replaces on refectory table up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>)</p> + +<p>We must keep some surprises for him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>as she crosses back to table</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and +picks up the flowers</i>). Come along, Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>wickedly</i>). Are those my flowers, Mr. Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>advancing to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and laughing awkwardly, after a +little hesitation, with a bow which might refer to either of them</i>). +They are for the most beautiful lady in the land.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, how nice of you!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>crosses to door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and opens it for</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>, +<i>who follows him and exits</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>standing above door, +catches <span class="char">Belinda's</span> eye and with an awkward laugh follows</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I suppose he means Delia–bless them! (<i>She kisses her hand +towards the door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>She then rises and crosses below the +table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>, <i>placing her basket on the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>end of it, to the +fireplace. She rings the bell. Then she moves up on the</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>side +of the Chesterfield to the refectory table and takes off her hat. She +takes up a mirror from the table and gives a few pats to her hair, and +as she is doing so <span class="char">Betty</span> enters from door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and crosses the room +towards</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>pointing to basket on the</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table</i>). Oh, Betty—</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>moves to back of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table and takes up the basket. +Crosses above settee and exits through door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>is moving +towards the swing doors when she catches sight of</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>entering +from the garden up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>She moves quickly to the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table, +takes up a book and going to Chesterfield</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>, <i>lies down with her +head to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>looks in through the window up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>then crosses +round and enters through the portico and the swing doors</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>pretends to be very busy reading</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>rather nervously, in front of wring doors</i>). Er–may I +come in, Mrs. Tremayne?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dropping her book and turning round with a violent +start</i>). Oh, Mr. Baxter, how you surprised me! (<i>She puts her hand +to her heart and sits up and faces him</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I must apologize for intruding upon you at this hour, Mrs. +Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>holding up her hand</i>). Stop!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>startled</i>). What?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I cannot let you come in like that.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>looking down at himself</i>). Like what?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dropping her eyes</i>). You called me Belinda once.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>coming down to her</i>). May I explain my position, Mrs. +Tremayne?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Before you begin–have you been seeing my niece lately?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>surprised</i>). No.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh! (<i>Sweetly</i>.) Please go on.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Why, is <i>she</i> lost too?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh no; I just— Do sit down.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>moves to the chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table and sits</i>. +<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>rises when he has sat down</i>.)</p> + +<p>Let me put your hat down somewhere for you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>keeping it firmly in his hand</i>). It will be all right +here, thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>returning to the Chesterfield and sitting</i>). I'm dying to +hear what you are going to say.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. First as regards the use of your Christian name. I felt that, as +a man of honour, I could not permit myself to use it until I had +established my right over that of Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. All my friends call me Belinda.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. As between myself and Mr. Devenish the case is somewhat +different. Until one of us is successful over the other in the quest +upon which you have sent us, I feel that as far as possible we should +hold aloof from you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>pleadingly</i>). Just say "Belinda" once more, in case +you're a long time.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>very formally</i>). Belinda.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How nicely you say it–Harold.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>getting out of his seat</i>). Mrs. Tremayne, I must not +listen to this.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>meekly</i>). I won't offend again, Mr. Baxter. Please go on. +(<i>She motions him to sit–he does so</i>.) Tell me about the quest; +are you winning?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I am progressing, Mrs. Tremayne. Indeed, I came here this +morning to acquaint you with the results of my investigations. +(<i>Clears his throat</i>.) Yesterday I located a man called Robinson +working upon a farm close by. I ventured to ask him if he had any marks +upon him by which he could be recognized. He adopted a threatening +attitude, and replied that if I wanted any he could give me some. With +the aid of half-a-crown I managed to placate him. Putting my inquiry in +another form, I asked if he had any moles. A regrettable +misunderstanding, which led to a fruitless journey to another part of +the village, was eventually cleared up, and on my return I satisfied +myself that this man was in no way related to your niece.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>admiringly</i>). How splendid of you!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, now, we know <i>he's</i> not. (<i>She holds up one +finger</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes. In the afternoon I located another Mr. Robinson following +the profession of a carrier. My first inquiries led to a similar result, +with the exception that in this case Mr. Robinson carried his +threatening attitude so far as to take off his coat and roll up his +sleeves. Perceiving at once that he was not the man, I withdrew.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. How brave you are!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. That makes two.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yea.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>holding up another finger</i>). It still leaves a good many. +(<i>Pleadingly</i>.) Just call me Belinda again.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>rising and backing to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>a little, nervously</i>). You +mustn't tempt me, Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>penitently</i>). I won't!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>going slowly to fireplace and placing his hat down on +urmchair below fireplace</i>). To resume, then, my narrative. This +morning I have heard of a third Mr. Robinson. Whether there is actually +any particular fortune attached to the number three I cannot say for +certain. It is doubtful whether statistics would be found to support the +popular belief. But one likes to flatter oneself that in one's own case +it may be true; and so—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. And so the third Mr. Robinson–?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Something for which I cannot altogether account inspires me with +hope. He is, I have discovered, staying at Mariton. This afternoon I go +to look for him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to herself</i>). Mariton! How funny! I wonder if it's the +same one.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. What one?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, just one of the ones. (<i>Gratefully</i>.) Mr. Baxter, you +are doing all this for <i>me</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Pray do not mention it. I don't know if it's Devonshire +(<i>going to and sitting</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>), or the time of the +year, or the sort of atmosphere you create, Mrs. Tremayne, but I feel an +entirely different man. There is something in the air which–yes, I +shall certainly go over to Mariton this afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>gravely</i>). I have had the same feeling sometimes, Mr. +Baxter. I am not always the staid respectable matron which I appear to +you to be. Sometimes I–(<i>She looks absently at the watch on her +wrist</i>.) Good gracious!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>alarmed</i>). What is it!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>looking anxiously from the door to him</i>). Mr. Baxter, I'm +going to throw myself on your mercy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. My dear Mrs. Tremayne—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>looking at her watch again, rising and moving up</i> <span class="stage">L.C.</span>, +<i>looking at door</i>). A strange man will be here directly. He must not +find you with me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>rising, jealously</i>). A man?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Yes, yes, a man! He is pursuing me with his +attentions. If he found you here, there would be a terrible scene.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I will defend you from him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>crossing down to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of Chesterfield</i>). No, no. He +is a big man. He will–he will overpower you. (<i>Moving</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>a +little and looking out of windows</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. But you–!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I can defend myself. I will send him away. But he must not find +you here. You must hide before he overpowers you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>with dignity, crossing below table to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>). I will +withdraw if you wish it. <span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>following to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>at back of +table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>). No, not withdraw, hide. He might see you withdrawing. +(<i>Leading the way to the cupboard door</i>.) Quick, in here.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>embarrassed at the thought that this sort of thing really +only happens in a bedroom farce and moving towards her</i>). I don't +think I quite—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reassuring him</i>). It's perfectly respectable; it's where +we keep the umbrellas. (<i>She takes him by the hand</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>resisting and looking nervously into the cupboard</i>). I'm +not at all sure that I—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>earnestly</i>). Oh, but don't you see what <i>trust</i> I'm +putting in you? (<i>To herself</i>.) Some people are so nervous about +their umbrellas.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Well, of course, if you–but I don't see why I shouldn't just +slip out of the door before he comes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reproachfully</i>). Of course, if you grudge me every little +pleasure–(<i>Crossing in front of</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>towards swing doors +and seeing</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>coming</i>.) Quick! Here he is.</p> + +<p>(<i>She bundles him through the cupboard door and closes it and with a +sign of happiness crosses down to</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table. She sees</i> <span class="char">Baxter's</span> +<i>bowler hat on the arm-chair below the fireplace. She fetches and +carries it over to the cupboard door, knocks and hands it to him, +saying</i>, "Your hat!")</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>expostulating and nearly knocking her over as he comes +out</i>). Well, really I—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>bundling him into the cupboard and closing the door</i>). +Hush!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>straightens her hair, takes up her book from</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> +<i>of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table and sits, stroking the head of the toy dog and +pretending to read</i>. <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>enters from garden up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and +through the swing doors up</i> <span class="stage">R.C.</span>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>gives an assumed cry of +surprise</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>at the swing doors</i>). It's no good your pretending to be +surprised, because you said I could come. (<i>Coming down to the back of +the table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>and putting down his hat</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>rising, shaking hands and welcoming him</i>). But I can +still be surprised that you wanted to come.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> Oh no, you aren't.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>markng it off on her fingers</i>). Just a little bit–that +much.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. It would be much more surprising if I hadn't come.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>crossing to the Chesterfield, picking up her book and +handing it to</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>, <i>who puts it on the table</i>). It is a +pretty garden, isn't it? (<i>She sits on</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>end of Chesterfield</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>coming to her</i>). You forget that I saw the garden +yesterday.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, but the things have grown so much since then. Let me see, +this is the third day you've been and we only met three days ago. (<i>He +moves behind the Chesterfield to the left end of it</i>.) And then +you're coming to dinner again to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>eagerly and leaning over the Chesterfield</i>). Am I?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes. Haven't you been asked?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>going round the left end of the Chesterfield</i>). No, not +a word.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, that's quite right; I remember now, I only thought of it +this morning, so I couldn't ask you before, could I?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>earnestly</i>). What made you think of it then?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>romantically</i>). It was at the butcher's.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Eh?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. There was one little lamb cutlet left over and sitting out all +by itself, and there was nobody to love it. And I said to myself, +suddenly, "I know, that will do for Mr. Robinson." (<i>Protaically</i>.) +I do hope you like lamb?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>sitting on her left side</i>). I adore it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, I'm so glad I When I saw it sitting there I thought you'd +love it. I'm afraid I can't tell you any more about the rest of the +dinner, because I wouldn't tell Mr. Devenish, and I want to be fair.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>jealously</i>). Who's Mr. Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, haven't you met him? He's always coming here.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> Is he in love with you too?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Too? Oh, you mean Mr. Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>rising and moving to fireplace</i>). Confound it, that's +three!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>innocently</i>). Three? (<i>She looks up at him and down +again</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Who is Mr. Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, haven't you met him? He's always coming here.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>turning away and looking into fireplace</i>). Who is Mr. +Baxter?</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>appears at cupboard doorway</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>hears him and +gives a startled look round. She signs to him to go back. <span class="char">Baxter</span> +retreats immediately and closes door</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, he's a sort of statistician. Isn't that a horrid word to +say? So stishany.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. What does he make statistics about?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh (<i>giving a sly look round at cupboard door</i>), umbrellas +and things. Don't let's talk about him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. All right, then; (<i>going up to her jealously</i>) who is Mr. +Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, he's a poet. (<i>She throws up her eyes and sighs +deeply</i>.) Ah me!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. What does he write poetry about?</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>looks at him, and down again, and then at him again, and +then down, then raises and drops her arms, and gives a little sigh–all +of which means, "Can't you guess?"</i>)</p> + +<p>What does he write poetry about?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>obediently</i>). He wrote "The Lute of Love and other Poems, +by Claude Devenish."</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>is annoyed and turns away to the fireplace</i>.)</p> + +<p>The Lute of Love–(<i>To herself</i>.) I haven't been saying that +lately. (<i>With great expression</i>.) The Lute of Love–the Lute. +(<i>She pats her mouth back</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. And who is Mr. Devenish–!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>putting her hand on his sleeve</i>). You'll let me know when +it's my turn, won't you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Your turn?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, to ask questions. I love this game–it's just like clumps. +(<i>She crosses her hands on her lap and waits for the next +question</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I beg your pardon. I–er–of course have no right to cross-examine you like this.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, do go on, I love it. (<i>With childish excitement</i>.) +I've got my question ready.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>smiling and going and sitting beside her again</i>). I +think perhaps it <i>is</i> your turn.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). Is it really? (<i>He nods</i>.) Well then–(<i>in a loud voice</i>)–who is Mr. Robinson?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>alarmed</i>). What?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I think it's a fair question. I met you three days ago and you +told me you were staying at Mariton. Mariton. You can say it all right +now, can't you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I think so.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coaxingly</i>). Just say it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Mariton.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>clapping her hands</i>). Lovely! I don't think any of the +villagers do it as well as that.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Well?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>looking very hard at <span class="char">Tremayne</span>–he wonders whether she has +discovered his identity</i>). Well, that was three days ago. You came +the next day to see the garden, and you came the day after to see the +garden, and you've come this morning–to see the garden; and you're +coming to dinner to-night, and it's so lovely, we shall simply have to +go into the garden afterwards. And all I know about you is that you +haven't any relations called Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. What do I know about Mrs. Tremayne but that she has a relation +called Robinson?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. And two dear friends called Devenish and Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>rising–annoyed</i>). I was forgetting them. (<i>Crosses to +below</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>end of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to herself, with a sly look round at the cupboard</i>), I +mustn't forget Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. But what does it matter? What would it matter if I knew +nothing about you? (<i>Moving up to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>end of Chesterfield and +leaning over it</i>.) I know everything about you–everything that +matters.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>leaning back and closing her eyes contentedly</i>). Tell me +some of them. <span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>bending over her earnestly</i>). Belinda—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>still with her eyes shut</i>). He's going to propose to me. +I can feel it coming.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>starting back</i>). Confound it! how many men <i>have</i> +proposed to you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Since when?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Since your first husband proposed to you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, I thought you meant this year. (<i>Sitting up</i>.) Well +now, let me see. (<i>Slowly and thoughtfully</i>.) One. (<i>She pushes +up her first finger</i>.) Two. (<i>She pushes up the second</i>.) Three. +(<i>She pushes up the third finger, holds it there for a moment and then +pushes it gently down again</i>.) No, I don't think that one ought to +count really. (<i>She pushes up two more fingers and the thumb</i>.) Three, +four, five–do you want the names or just the total?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>moving up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and then over</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>). This is horrible.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>innocently</i>). But anybody can propose. Now if you'd asked +how many I'd accepted—</p> + +<p>(<i>He turns sharply to her–annoyed</i>.)</p> + +<p>Let me see, where was I up to?</p> + +<p>(<i>He moves down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p>I shan't count yours, because I haven't really had it yet.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>enters down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and stands behind settee</i>.)</p> + +<p>Six, seven–Yes, Betty, what is it?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Betty</span>. If you please, ma'am, cook would like to speak to you for a +minute.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>goes up</i> <span class="stage">R.C.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>getting up</i>). Yes, I'll come.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>goes out, leaving the door open</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>crosses Before +the table</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<i>To</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>.) You'll forgive me, won't you? You'll find some +cigarettes there. (<i>Points to table up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>moves by the +back of the settee and holds the door for</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>. <i>She turns to him in +the doorway</i>.) It's probably about the lamb cutlets; I expect your +little one refuses to be cooked.</p> + +<p>(<i>She goes out after</i> <span class="char">Betty</span>.)</p> + +<p>(<i>Left alone</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>stalks moodily about the room, crossing +it and kicking things which come in his way. Violently, he kicks a +hassock which is above the table</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>to under the table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>, +<i>then he takes up his hat and moves towards the swing doors and half +opens them. He pauses and considers–then he comes down to the centre +table, throws down his hat, moves round the left end of the table, finds +the dog in the way and then sits on the table with his hands in his +pockets, facing the audience. As he has been moving about the room, he +has muttered the names of</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>entering from the door</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>which he closes and goes +to foot of the settee <span class="stage">R.</span>–surprised</i>). Hullo!</p> + +<p>(<i>A pause</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>jealously, and rising</i>). Are you Mr. Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Devenish the poet?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>coming up and shaking him warmly by the hand</i>). My dear +fellow, you know my work?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>grimly</i>). My dear Mr. Devenish, your name is most +familiar to me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I congratulate you. I thought your great-grand-children would +be the first to hear of me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>moving to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>). My name's Robinson, by the way.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>connecting him with</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>). Then let me return the +compliment, Robinson. Your name is familiar to me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>hastily, and going towards</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). I don't think I'm +related to any Robinsons you know.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>dubiously</i>). Well, no, I suppose not. When I was very +much younger I began a collection of Robinsons. Actually it was only +three days ago, but it seems much longer. (<i>Thinking of</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.) +Many things have happened since then.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>uninterested, moving</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>) Really!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. There is a man called Baxter–(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>displays his +jealousy of</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>.) who is still collecting, I believe. For myself, +I am only interested in one of the great family–Delia.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>eagerly, and going quickly to him and placing his hand on +<span class="char">Devenish's</span> left shoulder</i>). You are interested in <i>her</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Devotedly. In fact, I am at this moment waiting for her to put +on her hat.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>warmly, banging him on the shoulder with both hands</i>). +My dear Devenish, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. (<i>He +seizes his hand and grips it heartily</i>.) How are you? +(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>backs to the settee in pain</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>sitting on settee, feeling his fingers</i>). Fairly well, +thanks.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>sitting above him and banging him on the back</i>). That's +right.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>still nursing his hand</i>). You are a very lucky fellow, +Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. In what way?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. People you meet must be so very reluctant to say good-bye to +you. Have you ever tried strangling lions or anything like that?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>with a laugh</i>). Well, as a matter of fact, I have.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I suppose you won all right?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. In the end, with the help of my beater.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Personally I should have backed you alone against any two +ordinary lions.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. One was quite enough. As it was, he gave me something to +remember him by. (<i>Putting up his left sleeve, he displays a deep +scar</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>looking at it casually</i>). By Jove, that's a nasty one! +(<i>He suddenly catches sight of the mole and stares at it fascinated, +then stares up at</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>.) Good heavens!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>clasping his head</i>). Wait. (<i>Rising and moving up to</i> +<span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>.) Let me think. (<i>After a pause</i>.) Have you +ever met a man called Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. No.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Would you like to?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>grimly</i>). Very much indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. He's the man I told you about who's interested in Robinsons. +He'll be delighted to meet you. (<i>With a nervous laugh</i>.) Funny +thing, he's rather an authority on lions. You must show him that scar +of yours; it will intrigue him immensely. (<i>Earnestly</i>.) +<i>Don't</i> shake hands with him too heartily just at first; it might +put him off the whole thing.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. This Mr. Baxter seems to be a curious man.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>absently</i>). Yes, he is rather odd. (<i>Looking at his +watch</i>.) I wonder if I–(<i>To</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>.) I suppose you won't +be— (<i>He stops suddenly. A slight tapping noise comes from the room +where they keep umbrellas</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. What's that!</p> + +<p>(<i>The tapping noise is repeated, a little more loudly this time. +<span class="char">Devenish</span> moves to end of table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Come in.</p> + +<p>(<i>The door opens and</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>comes in nervously, holding his +bowler hat in his hand. He moves towards the swing doors</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>apologetically</i>). Oh, I just–(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>stands up</i>) +–I just–(<i>He goes back again</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>springing across the room</i>). Baxter!</p> + +<p>(<i>The door opens nervously again and <span class="char">Baxter's</span> head appears round it</i>.)</p> + +<p>Come in, Baxter, old man; you're just the very person I wanted.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>comes in carefully</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>closes the door</i>.)</p> + +<p>Good man. (<i>To</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>, <i>taking</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, +<i>and placing his arm round his shoulders</i>.) This is Mr. Baxter that +I was telling you about.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>removes</i> <span class="char">Devenish's</span> <i>arm from his shoulders</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>moving up to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>and much relieved at the +appearance of his rival</i>). Oh, is this Mr. Baxter? (<i>Holding out +his hand with great friendliness</i>.) How are you, Mr. Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>warningly</i>). Steady!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>shakes</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>quite gently by the hand</i>.)</p> + +<p>Baxter, this is Mr. Robinson. (<i>Casually</i>.) R-o-b-i-n-s-o-n. (<i>He +looks sideways at</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>to see how he takes it</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>is +noticeably impressed</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Really? I am very glad to meet you, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Very good of you to say so.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>taking his arm</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>is annoyed +and gets free</i>). Robinson is a great big-game hunter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving down to</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>). Indeed? I have never done +anything in that way myself, but I'm sure it must be an absorbing +pursuit.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Oh, well, it's something to do.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>). You must get him to tell you about a +wrestle he had with a lion once. Extraordinary story! (<i>Looking at his +watch suddenly</i>.) Jove! I must be off. See you again, Baxter. (<i>He +bangs</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>on the shoulder and moves down to</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>.) +Good-bye, Robinson. No, don't shake hands. I'm in a hurry. (<i>He looks +at his watch again and goes out hurriedly by the door on the</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>sits on settee</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>on chair</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> +<i>of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table. He puts his hat on the table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Unusual man, your friend Devenish. I suppose it comes of being +a poet.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I have no great liking for Mr. Devenish—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Oh, he's all right.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. But I am sure that if he is impressed by anything outside +himself or his own works, it must be something rather remarkable. Pray +tell me of your adventure with the lion.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>laughing</i>). Really, you mustn't think that I go about +telling everybody my adventures. It just happened to come up. I'm afraid +I shook his hand rather more warmly than I meant, and he asked me if I'd +ever tried strangling lions. That was all.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. And had you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Well, it just happened that I had.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Indeed! You came off scatheless, I trust?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>carelessly indicating his arm</i>). Well, he got me one +across there.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>rising and coming to above</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>, <i>obviously +excited</i>). Really, really. (<i>Points to his arm</i>.) One across +there. Not bad, I hope?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>laughing</i>). Well, it doesn't show unless I do that. +(<i>He pulls up his sleeve carelessly and</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>bends eagerly +over his arm and sees the mole and very slowly looks up at</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>, +<i>then down at the arm again, then up at</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Good heavens! I've found it! (<i>He runs over to the table and +picks up his hat</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Found what? (<i>He pulls down his sleeve</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>going up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>). I must see Mrs. Tremayne. Where's Mrs. +Tremayne?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. She went out just now. What's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Out! I must find her. This is a matter of life and death. (<i>He +hurries through the swing doors</i>.) Mrs. Tremayne! Mrs. Tremayne! +(<i>He exits</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>through the garden</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>rises and moves to the swing doors, stares after him in +amazement. Then he pulls up his sleeve, looks at his scar again and +shakes his head. While he is still puzzling over it</i>, <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>comes back</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>crossing below settee</i>). Such a to-do in the kitchen! The +cook's given notice–at least she will directly–(<i>up to</i> +<span class="char">Tremayne</span>)–and your lamb cutlet slipped back to the shop when nobody was +looking</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>looks off at swing doors</i>)</p> + +<p>and I've got to go into the village again, (<i>going to the refectory +table and getting her hat</i>) and ok dear, oh dear, I have such a lot +of things to do! (<i>Looking across at</i> <span class="char">Mr. Baxter's</span> <i>door</i>.) Oh yes, +that's another one. (<i>Coming back to table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>and putting down +her hat on <span class="stage">R.</span> side</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Belinda— (<i>Moving up to her</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. No, not even Belinda. Wait till this evening.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I have a thousand things to say to you; I shall say them this +evening.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>giving him her hand</i>). Begin about eight o'clock. Good-bye +till then.</p> + +<p>(<i>He takes her hand, looks at her for a moment, then suddenly bends +and kisses it, takes up his hat and hurries through the swing doors and +off through the garden to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>stands looking from her hand to him, gives a little +wondering exclamation and then presses the back of her hand against her +cheek, and goes to the swing doors. She turns back, and remembers</i> <span class="char">Mr. +Baxter</span> <i>again. With a smile she goes to the door and taps gently</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Mr. Baxter, Mr. Baxter, you may come in now; he has withdrawn. +(<i>Moves down a little and then back to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of the door again</i>.) +Mr. Baxter, I have unhanded him. (<i>She opens the door and going in, +finds the room empty</i>.) Oh!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>comes quickly through the swing doors</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>meeting</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>coming out of the cupboard</i>). Ah, +(<i>they both start</i>) there you are! (<i>Crossing down to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>end of</i> +<span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table, he puts down his hat</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>turning with a start</i>). Oh, how you frightened me, Mr. +Baxter! I couldn't think what had happened to you. (<i>She closes the +door</i>.) I thought perhaps you'd been eaten up by one of the +umbrellas.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Mrs. Tremayne, I have some wonderful news for you. I have found +Miss Robinson's father.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>on his</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>, <i>hardly understanding</i>). Miss Bobinson's +father?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes. <i>Mr</i>. Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, you mean–(<i>Points to direction when <span class="char">Tremayne</span> has +gone</i>.) Oh yes, he told me his name was Robinson–Oh, but he's no +relation.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Wait! I saw his arm. By a subterfuge I managed to see his arm.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>her eyes opening more and more widely as she begins to +realize</i>). You saw—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I saw the mole.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coming down to him faintly as she holds out her own +arm</i>). Show me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>very decorously indicating</i>). There!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>holds the place with her other hand, and stitt looking +at</i> <span class="char">Mr. Baxter</span>, <i>slowly begins to laugh–half-laughter, half-tears, +wonderingly, happily, contentedly</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>moving to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of table and sitting</i>). And I didn't +know!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving to back of table</i>). Mrs. Tremayne, I am delighted +to have done this service for your niece—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to herself</i>). Of course, <i>he</i> knew all the time.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>to the world</i>). Still more am I delighted to have gained +the victory over Mr. Devenish in this enterprise.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Eighteen years–but I <i>ought</i> to have known.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>at large</i>). I shall not be accused of exaggerating when I +say that the odds against such an enterprise were enormous.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Eighteen years— And now I've eight whole <i>hours</i> to +wait!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>triumphantly</i>). It will be announced to-night. "Mr. +Devenish," I shall say, "young fellow–" (<i>He arranges his speech in +his mind</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>nodding to herself mischievously</i>). So I was right, after +all! (<i>Slowly and triumphantly</i>.) He <i>does</i> look better without +a beard!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>with his hand on the back of the chair on the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>side +of the table</i>). "Mr. Devenish, young fellow, when you matched yourself +against a man of my repute, when you matched yourself against a man–matched yourself against a man of my repute (<i>crossing towards +fireplace</i>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>rises stealthily, takes up her hat and exits through the +swing doors and through the garden up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p>when you matched yourself against a man who has read papers (<i>moving +towards centre table</i>) at Soirees of the Royal Statistical Society–" +(<i>Looking round the room, he discovers that he is alone. He picks up +his hat from the table and jams it down on his head</i>.) Unusual!</p> + +<p>(<i>He moves up towards the swing doors</i>.)</p> + +<p style="text-align: center; font-variant: small-caps">Curtain.</p> + + +<h2>Act III</h2> + + +<p><i>It is after dinner in <span class="char">Belinda's</span> hall. The log fire, chandelier and +wall brackets are all alight</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>is lying on the Chesterfield +with a coffee-cup in her hand</i>. <span class="char">Delia</span>, <i>in the chair down</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>below +the fireplace, has picked up "The Lute of Love" from a table and is +reading it impatiently. She also has a coffee-cup in her hand</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>throwing the book away</i>). What rubbish he writes!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coming back from her thoughts</i>). Who, dear?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Claude</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>gives her a quick look of surprise</i>.)</p> + +<p>–Mr. Devenish. (<i>She rises and stands by the fireplace with her cup +in her hand</i>.) Of course, he's very young.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. So was Keats, darling.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I don't think Claude has had Keats' advantages. Keats started +life as an apothecary.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. So much nicer than a chemist.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Now, Claude started with nothing to do.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>mildly</i>). Do you always call him Claude, darling? I hope +you aren't going to grow into a flirt like that horrid Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Silly mother! (<i>She moves to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>takes her cup, +then crosses to the table and places both the cups on the table–seriously</i>.) I don't think he'll ever be any good till he really gets +work. Did you notice his hair this evening?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dreamily</i>). Whose, dear?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>going to the back of the Chesterfield and to the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> +<span class="char">Belinda</span>). Mummy, look me in the eye and tell me you are not being bad.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>having playfully turned her head away and hidden her face +with her handkerchief, says innocently</i>). Bad, darling?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>moving down to the front of the fireplace</i>). You've made +Mr. Robinson fall in love with you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>happily</i>). Have I?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Yes; it's serious this time. He's not like the other two.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. However did you know that?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, I know.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Darling, I believe you've grown up. It's quite time I settled +down.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. With Mr. Robinson?</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>sits up and looks thoughtfully at</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>for a little +time</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>mysteriously</i>). Delia, are you prepared for a great +secret to be revealed to you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>childishly and jumping on to the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>arm of the +Chesterfield facing</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). Oh, I love secrets.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reproachfully</i>). Darling, you mustn't take it like that. +This is a great, deep, dark secret; you'll probably need your sal +volatile.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Go on!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well— (<i>Looking round the room</i>.) Shall we have the +lights down a little?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Go on, mummy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, Mr. Robinson is–(<i>impressively</i>)–is not quite the +Robinson he appears to be.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Yes?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. In fact, child, he is— Darling, hadn't you better come and +hold your mother's hand?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>struggling with some emotion and placing her hand on</i> +<span class="char">Belinda's</span> <i>arm, who playfully smacks it</i>). Go on.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, Mr. Robinson is a–sort of relation of yours; in fact–(<i>playing with her rings and looking down coyly</i>)–he is your–father. (<i>She looks up at</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>to see how the news is being +received</i>.) (<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>gives a happy laugh</i>.)</p> + +<p>Dear one, this is not a matter for mirth.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Darling, it is lovely, isn't it? (<i>Sliding down to the seat of +the Chesterfield next to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>who moves along to make room +for her</i>.) I am laughing because I am so happy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Aren't you surprised?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. No. You see, Claude told me this morning. (<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>displays +annoyance</i>.) He found out just before Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well! Every one seems to have known except me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Didn't you see how friendly father and I got at dinner? I thought +I'd better start breaking the ice–because I suppose he'll be kissing me +directly.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Say you like him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. I think he's going to be awfully nice. (<i>She kisses</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>and rises</i>.) Does he <i>know</i> you know?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Not yet.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh! (<i>She moves to the fireplace and warms her hands</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Just at present I've rather got Mr. Baxter on my mind. I +suppose, darling, you wouldn't like him as well as Mr. Devenish! +(<i>Pathetically</i>.) You see, they're so used to going about together.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Claude is quite enough.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I think I must see Mr. Baxter and get it over. Do you mind if I +have Mr. Devenish too? I feel more at home with both of them. I'll give +you him back. Oh dear, I feel so happy to-night! (<i>She jumps up and +goes to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.) And is my little girl going to be happy too? That's +what mothers always say on the stage. I think it's so sweet.</p> + +<p>(<i>They move together to below table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>smiling at her</i>). Yes, I think so, mummy. Of course, I'm +not romantic like you. I expect I'm more like father, really.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dreamily</i>). Jack can be romantic now. He was telling me +this morning all about the people he has proposed to. I mean, I was +telling him. Anyhow, he wasn't a bit like a father. Of course, he +doesn't know he is a father yet. Darling, I think you might take him +into the garden; only don't let him know who he is. You see, he ought to +propose to me first, oughtn't he?</p> + +<p>(<i>The men come in from</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>goes to the foot of the +settee <span class="stage">R.</span>, <span class="char">Devenish</span> to the back of the table up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>while</i> +<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>stands at the back of the settee</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>moves to the +front of the settee and <span class="char">Delia</span> sits on the table</i>.)</p> + +<p>Here you all are! I do hope you haven't been throwing away your cigars, +because smoking is allowed all over the house.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>as he comes to the foot of the settee</i>). Oh, we've +finished, thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>going up to the swing doors and opening them</i>). Isn't it +a wonderful night?–and so warm for April. Delia, you must show Mr. +Robinson the garden by moonlight–it's the only light he hasn't seen it +by.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>quickly coming to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>back of table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>). I don't +think I've ever seen it by moonlight, Miss Delia.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>coming down a little</i>). I thought poets were always +seeing things by moonlight.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving toward</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). I was hoping, Mrs. Tremayne, +that–er–perhaps—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>moving quickly to above</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>and taking his</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> +<i>hand, and pulling him up stage to swing doors</i>). Come along, Mr. +Robinson.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>looks at</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>who gives him a nod</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>then moves down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>). It's very kind of you, Miss Robinson. I +suppose there is no chance of a nightingale?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. There ought to be. I ordered one specially for Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>go out together</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span>, <i>with a +sigh, moves over to the Chesterfield and settles herself comfortably +into it</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>annoyed by</i> <span class="char">Tremayne's</span> <i>attentions to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>, +<i>crosses up angrily and looks off through the window up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>above +fireplace, then comes down</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of the Chesterfield to the front +of the fireplace</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>moves up to the swing doors angrily watching</i> +<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>, <i>then moves to the window</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>and looks off</i>. +<span class="char">Betty</span> <i>then enters with a salver from</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>She moves by the back of +the settee to the back of the table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>, <i>picks up the coffee-cups and +goes out</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>then moves over to the window facing the audience, +up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>He looks off, then comes down to the</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>.)</p> + +<p>Now we're together again. Well, Mr. Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Er–I—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. No; I think I'll let Mr. Baxter speak first. I know he's +longing to.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>leaning on the back of the chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of table–he +clears his throat</i>). H'r'm! Mrs. Tremayne, I beg formally to claim +your hand.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>sweetly</i>). On what grounds, Mr. Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>spiritedly</i>). Yes, sir, on what grounds?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>coming to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of Chesterfield, close to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). +On the grounds that, as I told you this morning, I had succeeded in the +quest.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>appearing to be greatly surprised</i>). Succeeded?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes, Mr. Devenish, young fellow, you have lost. (<i>He moves a +few paces</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>to below the chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of the table</i>.) I have +discovered the missing Mr. Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>wiping hit brow and coming to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>). Who–where—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>dramatically</i>). Miss Robinson has at this moment gone out +with her father.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>placing his hands heavily on</i> <span class="char">Baxter's</span> <i>shoulders, who +staggers</i>). Good heavens! It was he!</p> + +<p>(<i><span class="char">Baxter</span> pats</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>sympathetically and moves to the back of +the Chesterfield and is about to speak to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>. <i>She, however, +silences him and he drops down to the front of the fireplace</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>sympathetically</i>). Poor Mr. Devenish!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>pointing tragically to the table</i>). And to think that I +actually sat on that table–no, that seat (<i>he points to the +settee</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>then he moves up stage between it and the table</i>)–that I sat there with him this morning, and never guessed! Why, ten +minutes ago I was asking him for the nuts!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Aha, Devenish, you're not so clever as you thought you were.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>coming quickly to the back of the chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of the +table</i>). Why, I must have given you the clue myself! He told me he +had a scar on his arm, and I never thought any more of it. And then I +went away innocently and left you two talking about it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>alarmed</i>). A scar on his arm?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Where a lion mauled him.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>gives a little cry and shudder</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. It's quite healed up now, Mrs. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>looking at him admiringly</i>). A lion! What you two have +adventured for my sake!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I suppose you will admit, Devenish, that I may fairly claim to +have won?</p> + +<p>(<i>Looking the picture of despair</i>, <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>drops down</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> +<i>of the chair, droops his head, raises his arms and lets them fall +hopelessly to his sides</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Mr. Devenish, I have never admired you so much as I do at this +moment. (<i>She extends her</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>hand to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>who gropes +for it with his</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>hand and eventually manages to seize it</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>noticing he is holding her hand, moving to them and looking +at them quizzically–indignantly to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). I say, you know, +that's not fair. It's all very well to take your defeat like a man, but +you mustn't overdo it. (<i>They release their hands</i>.) Mrs. Tremayne, +I claim the reward which I have earned.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>after a pause and rising</i>). Mr. Baxter–Mr. Devenish, I +have something to tell you.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>moves to her</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>kneels upon the Chesterfield facing them. Penitently</i>.) I +have not been quite frank with you. I think you both ought to know that–I–I made a mistake. Delia is not my niece; she is my daughter. (<i>She +buries her face in her hands</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Your daughter! I say, how ripping!</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>gives him an understanding look</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Your daughter!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. But–but you aren't old enough to have a daughter of that age.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>apologetically</i>). Well, there she is.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. But–but she's grown up.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Quite.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Then in that case you must be–(<i>He hesitates, evidently +working it out</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>hastily</i>). I'm afraid so, Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. But this makes a great difference. I had no idea. Why, when I'm +fifty you would be—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>sighing</i>). Yes, I suppose I should.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. And when I'm sixty—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>pleadingly to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). Can't you stop him?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>with a threatening gesture</i>). Look here, Baxter, another +word from you and you'll never <i>get</i> to sixty.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. And then there's Miss–er–Delia. In the event of our marrying, +Mrs. Tremayne, she, I take it, would be my step-daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I don't think she would trouble us much, Mr. Baxter. (<i>With a +sly look at</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>.) I have an idea that she will be getting +married before long. (<i>She again glances at</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>who +returns her look gratefully</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>into the inner room</i>). None the less, +the fact would be disturbing.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>with a wink at</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>crosses in front of her and +warms his hands at the fire</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>watches</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>over +the back of the Chesterfield</i>.)</p> + +<p>I have never yet considered myself seriously as a step-father. +(<i>Moving round the refectory table</i>.) I don't think I am going too +far if I say that to some extent I have been deceived in this matter. +(<i>He comes down to behind the</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reproachfully</i>). And so have I. I thought you loved me.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>sympathetically</i>). Yes, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>turning to him suddenly</i>). And Mr. Devenish too.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). Er—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Er—</p> + +<p>(<i>They stand before her guiltily and have nothing to say</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a shrug</i>). Well, I shall have to marry somebody +else, that's all.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving to below table</i>). Who? Who?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I suppose Mr. Robinson. After all, if I am Delia's mother, and +Mr. Baxter says that Mr. Robinson's her father, it's about time we +<i>were</i> married.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). Mrs. Tremayne, what fools we are! He +<i>is</i> your husband all the time!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving up to the</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). You've had a +husband all the time?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>apologetically</i>). I lost him; it wasn't my fault.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Really, this is very confusing. I don't know where I am. I +gather–I am to gather, it seems, that you are no longer eligible as a +possible wife?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I am afraid not, Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. But this is very confusing–(<i>moving towards the swing +doors</i>)–this is very disturbing to a man of my age. For weeks past I +have been regarding myself as a–a possible benedict. I have–ah–taken +steps. (<i>Back to the</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>end of the</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table</i>.) Only this morning, +in writing to my housekeeper, I warned her that she might hear at +any moment a most startling announcement.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>cheerfully</i>). Oh, that's all right. That might only mean +that you were getting a new bowler-hat.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>dropping down</i> <span class="stage">L.C.</span> <i>a few steps–suddenly</i>). Ah, and +what about you, sir? How is it that you take this so lightly? +(<i>Triumphantly</i>.) I have it. It all becomes clear to me. You have +transferred your affections to her daughter!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Oh, I say, Baxter, this is very crude.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. And why should he not, Mr. Baxter? (<i>Softly</i>.) He has made +me very happy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>staggered</i>). He has made you happy, Mrs. Tremayne!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Very happy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>thoughtfully</i>). Oh! Oh ho! Oh ho! (<i>He takes a turn up +the room into the inner room, muttering to himself</i>. <span class="char">Belinda</span> +<i>kneels and watches him over the back of the Chesterfield. Then he +comes down again to her</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>side</i>.) Mrs. Tremayne, I have taken +a great resolve. (<i>Solemnly</i>.) I also will make you happy. +(<i>Thumping his heart</i>.) I also will woo Miss Delia.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Look here, Baxter—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>suddenly crossing and seizing</i> <span class="char">Devenish's</span> <i>arm and +pulling him towards the siding doors up</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>between the Chesterfield +and the table</i>). Come, we will seek Miss Delia together.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>seizes</i> <span class="char">Devenish's</span> <i>hand as he is passing and he, clinging +to it, nearly pulls her off the Chesterfield. She is very amused</i>.)</p> + +<p>It may be that she will send us upon another quest in which I shall +again be victorious.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>releases her hand and slips down into the Chesterfield. +Tempestuously</i>.)</p> + +<p>Come, I say—</p> + +<p>(<i>He marches the resisting</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>to the swing doors</i>.)</p> + +<p>Let us put it to the touch, to win or lose it all.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>turning and appealing to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). Please!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>gently</i>). Mr. Baxter... Harold.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>stops and turns round</i>.)</p> + +<p>You are too impetuous. I think that as Delia's mother—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>coming down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>to the foot of the</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> +<i>table</i>). Your pardon, Mrs. Tremayne. In the intoxication of the +moment I am forgetting. (<i>Formally</i>.) I have the honour to ask your +permission to pay my addresses–(<i>Moves to chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. No, no, I didn't mean that. But, as Delia's mother, I ought to +warn you that she is hardly fitted to take the place of your +housekeeper. She is not very domesticated.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). Not domesticated? (<i>Sits</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of +table</i>.) Why, did I not hear her tell her father at dinner that she +had arranged all the flowers?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. There are other things than flowers.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>on</i> <span class="char">Baxter's</span> <span class="stage">R.</span>, <i>behind the table</i>). Bed-socks, +for instance, Baxter.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>is annoyed</i>.)</p> + +<p>It's a very tricky thing airing bed-socks. I am sure your house-keeper—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>silencing</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). Mrs. Tremayne, she will learn. The +daughter of such a mother... I need say no more.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, thank you. But there is something else, Mr. Baxter. You are +not being quite fair to yourself. In starting out upon this simultaneous +wooing, you forget that Mr. Devenish has already had his turn–(<span class="char">Devenish</span> +<i>tries to stop her</i>. <span class="char">Baxter</span> <i>turns round and nearly catches +him</i>.)–this morning alone. You should have yours ... alone ... too.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Oh, I say!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes, yes, you are right. I must introduce myself first as a +suitor. I see that. (<i>Rising, to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>.) You stay here; +<i>I</i> will go alone into the garden, and–(<i>Moving below table and +up to the swing doors</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. It is perhaps a little cold out of doors for people of ... of +our age, Mr. Baxter. Now, in the library—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>at the swing doors, turning to her, astonished</i>). Library?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>a little</i>). You have a library?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>). He doesn't believe I have a library.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. You ought to see the library, Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>moving more down to below</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of table</i>). But you +are continually springing surprises on me this evening, Mrs. Tremayne. +First a daughter, then a husband, and then–a library! I have been here +three weeks, and I never knew you had a library. Dear me, I wonder how +it is that I never saw it?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>modestly, rising</i>). I thought you came to see <i>me</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. Yes, yes, to see you, certainly. But if I had known you had a +library ....</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh, I am so glad I mentioned it. Wasn't it lucky, Mr. Devenish?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. My work has been greatly handicapped of late.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>enter the garden from up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and +pass the window at the back</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>sweetly</i>). By me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span>. I was about to say by lack of certain books to which I wanted to +refer. It would be a great help. (<i>He moves up R, reflectively +muttering "Library."</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>moving below and to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of</i> <span class="stage">C.</span> <i>table</i>). My +dear Mr. Baxter, my whole library is at your disposal. (<i>She turns +to</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span>, <i>who is on her</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>, <i>and at the back of the table. +She speaks in a confidential whisper</i>.) I'm just going to show him +the Encyclopedia Britannica. (<i>She moves below the settee to the door</i> +<span class="stage">R.</span>) You won't mind waiting–Delia will be in directly.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Baxter</span>, <i>still muttering "Library," crosses to the door and opens it +for her. She goes out and he follows her</i>. <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>moves to the +<span class="stage">R.</span> of the swing doors and welcomes</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>. <span class="char">Tremayne</span> +<i>enters from the portico and holds open the swing doors for</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>speaking from the portico</i>). Hullo, we're just coming in.</p> + +<p>(<i>They enter and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>moves down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of the +table</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Where's Mrs. Tremayne?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>moving to down</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>). She's gone to the library with +Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>coming down on</i> <span class="char">Delia's</span> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>side–carelessly</i>). Oh, +the library. Where's that?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>promptly going towards the door, opening it and standing +above it</i>). The end door on the right.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>sits on the</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>end of the table facing</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>)</p> + +<p>Right at the end. You can't mistake it. On the right.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Ah, yes. (<i>He looks round at</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>, <i>who points +significantly at the door twice</i>.) Yes. (<i>He looks at</i> +<span class="char">Devenish</span>.) Yes. (<i>He goes out</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>hastily shuts the door and comes back to</i> <span class="char">Delia</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I say, your mother is a ripper.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>enthusiastically</i>). Isn't she! (<i>Remembering</i>.) At +least, you mean my aunt?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>smiling at her</i>). No, I mean your mother. To think that +I once had the cheek to propose to her.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh! Is it cheek to propose to people!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. To <i>her</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. But not to me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Oh I say, Delia!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>with great dignity</i>). Thank you, my name is Miss Robinson–I mean, Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Well, if you're not quite sure which it is, it's much safer to +call you Delia.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Well, perhaps it is.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. And if I did propose to you, you haven't answered</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>sitting in the chair</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>of the table</i>). If you want +an answer now, it's no; but if you like to wait till next April—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>moving up to behind table–reproachfully</i>). Oh, I say, +and I cut my hair for you the same afternoon. (<i>Turning quickly</i>.) +You haven't really told me how you like it yet.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Oh, how bad of me! You look lovely.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>sitting at back of the table</i>). And I promised to give +up poetry for your sake.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Perhaps I oughtn't to have asked you that.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. As far as I'm concerned, Delia, I'll do it gladly, but, of +course, one has to think about posterity.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. But you needn't be a poet. You could give posterity plenty to +think about if you were a statesman.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I don't quite see your objection to poetry.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. You would be about the house so much. I want you to go away every +day and do great things, and then come home in the evening and tell me +all about it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Then you <i>are</i> thinking of marrying me!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. Well, I was just thinking in case I had to.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>he rises and taking her hands, raises her from the chair. +She backs a step to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span>). Do. It would be rather fun if you did. And +look here–(<i>he pulls her gently back. They both sit on the table. He +places his arm round her waist</i>)–I <i>will</i> be a statesman, if +you like, and go up to Downing Street every day, and come back in the +evening and tell you all about it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. How nice of you!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span> (<i>magnificently, holding up his</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>hand to +Heaven</i>). Farewell, Parnassus!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>pulling down his hand</i>). What does that mean?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Well, it means that I've chucked poetry. A statesman's life +is the life for me; behold Mr. Devenish, the new M.P.–(<i>she holds up +her</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>hand admonishingly and he laughs apologetically</i> )–no, +look here, that was quite accidental.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>smiling at him</i>). I believe I shall really like you when I +get to know you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I don't know if it's you, or Devonshire, or the fact that I've +had my hair cut, but I feel quite a different being from what I was +three days ago.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. You <i>are</i> different. (<i>They both rise from the table. She +pulls him to</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>one step</i>.) Perhaps it's your sense of humour +coming back.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Perhaps that's it. It's a curious feeling.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>pulling him towards the swing doors</i>). Let's go outside; +there's a heavenly moon.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Moon? Moon? Now where have I heard that word before?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. What <i>do</i> you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. I was trying not to be a poet.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>opens the doors</i>.)</p> + +<p>Well, I'll come with you, but I shall refuse to look at it. (<i>Putting +his</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>hand behind his back, he walks slowly out with her, saying +to himself</i>) The Prime Minister then left the House.</p> + +<p>(<i>They cross the windows at the back and go off</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>come from the library, the latter +holding the door for her to pass</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>moving below the settee across the room</i>). Thank you. I +don't think it's unkind to leave him, do you? He seemed quite happy.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>following her</i>). I shouldn't have been happy if we'd +stayed.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>reaching the Chesterfield she puts her feet up. Her head it +towards</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>). Yes, but I was really thinking of Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>above table</i> <span class="stage">C.</span>). Not of me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, I thought it was Mr. Baxter's turn. Poor man, he's had a +disappointment lately.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>coming to <span class="stage">R.</span> of the Chesterfield–eagerly</i>). A +disappointment?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, he thought I was–younger than I was.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>smiling to himself</i>). How old are you, Belinda?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>dropping her eyes</i>). Twenty-two. (<i>After a pause</i>.) +He thought I was eighteen. Such a disappointment!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>smiling openly at her</i>). Belinda, how old are you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Just about the right age, Mr. Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. The right age for what?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. For this sort of conversation.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Shall I tell you how old you are?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Do you mean in figures or–poetically?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I meant—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Mr. Devenish said I was as old as the–now, I must get this the +right way round–as old as the—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I don't want to talk about Mr. Devenish.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>with a sigh</i>). Nobody ever does–except Mr. Devenish. As +old as the stars, and as young as the dawn. (<i>Settling herself +cosily</i>.) I think that's rather a nice age to be, don't you?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. A very nice age to be.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. It's a pity he's thrown me over for Delia; I shall miss that +sort of thing rather. You don't say those sort of things about your +aunt-in-law–not so often.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). He really is in love with Miss Robinson!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Oh yes. I expect he is out in the moonlight with her now, +comparing her to Diana.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Well, that accounts for <i>him</i>. Now what about Baxter?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I thought I told you. Deeply disappointed to find that I was +four years older than he expected, Mr. Baxter hurried from the drawing-room and buried himself in a column of the <i>Encyclopedia Britannica</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Well, that settles Baxter. Are there any more men in the +neighbourhood?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>shaking her head</i>). Isn't it awful? I've only had those +two for the last three weeks.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>sits on the back of the Chesterfield and looks down at +her</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Belinda.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, Henry!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. My name is John.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, you never told me. I had to guess. Everybody thinks they +can call me Belinda without giving me the least idea what their own +names are. You were saying, John?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. My friends call me Jack.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Jack Robinson. That's the man who always goes away so quickly. +I hope you're making more of a stay?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>seizing her by both arms</i>). Oh, you maddening, maddening +woman!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, I have to keep the conversation going. You do nothing but +say "Belinda."</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>taking her hand</i>). Have you ever loved anybody +seriously, Belinda?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I don't ever do anything very seriously. The late Mr. Tremayne, +my first husband–Jack— Isn't it funny, <i>his</i> name was Jack–he +used to complain about it too sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>with conviction</i>). Silly ass!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Ah, I think you are a little hard on the late Mr. Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Belinda, I want you to marry me and forget about him.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>happily to herself and lying back</i>). This is the proposal +that those lamb cutlets interrupted this morning.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Belinda, I love you–do you understand?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Suppose my first husband turns up suddenly like–like E. A.?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Like who?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Well, like anybody.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. He won't–I know he won't. Don't you love me enough to risk +it, Belinda?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I haven't really said I love you at all yet.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Well, say it now.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>looks at him, and then down again</i>.)</p> + +<p>You do! Well, I'm going to have a kiss, anyway, (<i>He kisses her +quickly–moves to</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of Chesterfield</i>.) There!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>rising</i>). O-oh I The late Mr. Tremayne never did that. +(<i>She powders her nose</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I have already told you that he was a silly ass. (<i>He makes +a move as if to kiss her again</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>holding up her hand and sitting on the</i> <span class="stage">R.</span> <i>side of the +Chesterfield</i>). I shall scream for Mr. Baxter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>sitting down on the Chesterfield, on her</i> L, <i>side</i>.) +Belinda—</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, Henry–I mean, Jack?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Do you know who I am! (<i>He is thoroughly enjoying the +surprise he is about to give her</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>nodding</i>). Yes, Jack.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Who?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Jack Tremayne.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>jumping up</i>). Good heavens, you <i>know</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>gently</i>). Yes, Jack.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>angrily</i>). You've known all the time that I was your +husband, and you've been playing with me and leading me on.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>mildly</i>). Well, darling, you knew all the time that I was +your wife, and you've been making love to me and leading me on.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. That's different.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>to herself</i>). That's just what the late Mr. Tremayne +said, and then he slammed the door and went straight off to the Rocky +Mountains and shot bears; and I didn't see him again for eighteen years.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>remorsefully</i>). Darling, I was a fool then, and I'm a +fool now.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I was a fool then, but I'm not such a fool now–I'm not going +to let you go. It's quite time I married and settled down.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. You darling I (<i>He kisses her</i>.) How did you find out who +I was?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>awkwardly</i>). Well, it was rather curious, darling. +(<i>After a pause</i>.) It was April, and I felt all sort of Aprily, +and–and–there was the garden all full of daffodils–and–and there was +Mr. Baxter–the one we left in the library–knowing all about moles. +He's probably got the M. volume down now. Well, we were talking about +them one day, and I happened to say that the late Mr. Tremayne–that was +you, darling–had rather a peculiar one on his arm. And then he happened +to see it this morning and told me about it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. What an extraordinary story!</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, darling; it's really much more extraordinary than that. I +think perhaps I'd better tell you the rest of it another time. +(<i>Coaxingly</i>.) Now show me where the nasty lion scratched you.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>pulls up his sleeve</i>.) Oh! (<i>She kisses his arm</i>.) +You shouldn't have left Chelsea, darling.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I should never have found you if I hadn't.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>squeezing his arm</i>). No, Jack, you wouldn't. (<i>After a +pause</i>.) I–I've got another little surprise for you if–if you're +ready for it. (<i>Standing up and moving to the chair</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>of the +table</i>.) Properly speaking, I ought to be wearing white. I shall +certainly stand up while I'm telling you. (<i>Modestly</i>.) Darling, we +have a daughter–our little Delia. (<i>He is standing in front of the +fireplace</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Delia? You said her name was Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Yes, darling, but you said yours was. One always takes one's +father's name. Unless, of course, you were Lord Robinson.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. But you said her name was Robinson before you—</p> + +<p>(<i>She makes a playful move</i>.)</p> + +<p>–Oh, never mind about that. A daughter? Belinda, how could you let me +go and not tell me?</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You forget how you'd slammed the door. It isn't the sort of +thing you shout through the window to a man on his way to America.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>taking her in his arms</i>). Oh, Belinda, don't let me ever +go away again.</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>enter from up</i> <span class="stage">L.</span> <i>and pass the +windows on the way to the swing doors</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. I'm not going to, Jack. I'm going to settle down into a staid +old married woman.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. Oh no, you're not. You're going on just as you did before. And +I'm going to propose to you every April, and win you, over all the other +men in love with you.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. You darling! (<i>They embrace</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>come in from the garden</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span> (<i>quietly to</i> <span class="char">Belinda</span>). Our daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span> (<i>going up to</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span>). You're my father.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. If you don't mind very much, Delia.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Delia</span>. You've been away a long time.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. I'll do my best to make up for it.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span>. Delia, darling, I think you might kiss your poor old father.</p> + +<p>(<i>As the does to</i>, <span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>suddenly and hastily kisses</i> +<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>on the cheek</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="char">Devenish</span>. Just in case you're going to be my mother-in-law.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Tremayne</span>. We seem to be rather a family party.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Belinda</span> (<i>suddenly</i>). There! (<i>Moving to the door</i> <span class="stage">L.</span>) We've +forgotten Mr. Baxter again.</p> + +<p><span class="char">Baxter</span> (<i>who has come in quietly with a book in his hand</i>). Oh, don't mind +about me, Mrs. Tremayne. I've enjoyed myself immensely. (<i>He crosses to +the arm-chair below the fireplace and places it in front of the fire</i>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="char">Belinda</span> <i>and</i> <span class="char">Tremayne</span> <i>move up into the inner room by the +refectory table and embrace, their backs to</i> <span class="char">Baxter</span>. <span class="char">Delia</span> <i>and</i> +<span class="char">Devenish</span> <i>are by the swing doors. They also embrace, their backs to</i> +<span class="char">Baxter</span>.)</p> + +<p>(<i>Referring to his book</i>.) I have been collecting some most valuable +information on (looking round at them and sitting in the arm-chair and +continuing to read) lunacy in the–er–county of Devonshire.</p> + +<p>(<i>The</i> <span style="font-variant: small-caps">Curtain</span> <i>falls</i>.)</p> + + + +<pre> + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Belinda, by A. A. Milne + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELINDA *** + +This file should be named belda10h.htm or belda10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, belda11h.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, belda10ha.txt + +This eBook was produced by Curtis A. Weyant, Stan Goodman, +Charles Franks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart [hart@pobox.com] + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + + + +</pre> + + +</body> +</html> |