menu_book Chapter 3

It is after dinner in Belinda's hall. The log-fire, chandelier, and wall-brackets are all alight. Belinda is lying on the Chesterfield with a coffee-cup in her hand. Delia in the chair down left 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. Delia throwing the book away. Ugh, what rubbish he writes. Belinda coming back from her thoughts.

Who, dear? Claude. Belinda gives her a quick look of surprise. Mr. Devinish. She rises and stands by the fireplace with her cup in her hand. Of course, he's very young. So was Keats, darling. I don't think Claude has had Keats's advantages. Keats started life as an apothecary.

So much nicer than a chemist. Now Claude started with nothing to do. Belinda mildly. Do you always call him Claude, darling? I hope you aren't going to grow into a flirt like that horrid Mrs. Tremaine. Silly mother. She moves to Belinda, takes her cup, then crosses to the table and places both the cups on the table. Seriously. I don't think he'll ever be any good till he really gets work.

Did you notice his hair this evening? Belinda dreamily. Who's, dear? Delia going to the back of the Chesterfield and to the left of Belinda. Mummy, look me in the eye and tell me you are not being bad. Belinda, having playfully turned her head away and hidden her face with her handkerchief, says innocently, Bad, darling?

You've made Mr. Robinson fall in love with you. Have I? Yes. It's serious this time. He's not like the other two. However, did you know that? Oh, I know. I settled down. With Mr. Robinson. Belinda sits up and looks thoughtfully at Delia for a little time. Belinda mysteriously.

Delia, are you prepared for a great secret to be revealed to you? Delia, childlessly and jumping onto the left arm of the Chesterfield, facing Belinda. Oh, I love secrets. Belinda, reproachfully. Darling, you mustn't take it like that. This is a great, deep, dark secret. You'll probably need yourself a little. Delia, excitedly.

Go on. Well. Looking round the room. Shall we have the lights down a little? Go on, Mummy. Well, Mr. Robinson is. Impressively. Is not quite the Robinson he appears to be. Yes? In fact, child, he is.

Darling, hadn't you better come and hold your mother's hand? Delia's struggling with some emotion and placing her hand on Belinda's arm, who playfully smacks it. Go on. Well, Mr. Robinson is a sort of relation of yours. In fact. Playing with her rings and looking down coyly. He is your.

Father. She looks up at Delia to see how the news is being received. Delia gives a happy laugh. Dear one, this is not a matter for mirth. Darling, it is lovely, isn't it? Sliding down to the seat of the Chesterfield next to Belinda, who moves along to make room for her. I'm laughing because I am so happy. Aren't you surprised? No. You see, Claude told me this morning.

Belinda displays annoyance. He found out just before Mr. Baxter. Well, everyone seems to have known except me. 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. Say you like him. I think he's going to be awfully nice.

She kisses Belinda and rises. Does he know you know? Not yet. Oh. She moves to the fireplace and warms her hands. Just at present I've rather got Mr. Baxter on my mind. I suppose, darling, you wouldn't like him as well as Mr. Devinish?

Pathetically. You see, they're so used to going about together. Claude is quite enough. I think I must see Mr. Baxter and get it over. Do you mind if I have Mr. Devinish too? I feel more at home with both of them. I'll give you him back. Oh dear, I feel so happy tonight. She jumps up and goes to Delia.

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. They move together to below table. Delia smiling at her. Yes, I think so, Mummy. Of course, I'm not romantic like you. I expect I'm more like father, really. Belinda dreamily.

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 isn'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? The men come in from right. Tremaine goes to the foot of the settee,

right. Devinish to the back of the table upright, while Baxter stands at the back of the settee. Belinda moves to the front of the settee, and Delia sits on the table. Here you all are. I do hope you haven't been throwing away your cigars, because smoking is allowed all over the house. Tremaine as he comes to the foot of the settee. Oh, we finished, thank you. Belinda going up to the swing doors and opening them.

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. Devinish quickly coming to right back of table center. I don't think I've ever seen it by moonlight, Miss Delia. Belinda coming down a little. I thought poets were always seeing things by moonlight. Baxter moving toward Belinda. I was hoping, Mrs. Tremaine, that perhaps. Delia moving quickly to above Tremaine and taking his

left hand and pulling him upstage to swing doors. Come along, Mr. Robinson. Tremaine looks at Belinda, who gives him a nod. Belinda moves down right. Tremaine left to Delia. It's very kind of you, Miss Robinson. I suppose there is no chance of a nightingale. There ought to be. I ordered one especially for Mr. Devinish. Delia and Tremaine go out together. Belinda with a sigh moves over to the Chesterfield

and settles herself comfortably into it. Devinish, annoyed by Tremaine's attentions to Delia, crosses up angrily and looks off through the window up left above the fireplace, then comes down left of the Chesterfield to the front of the fireplace. Baxter moves up to the swing doors angrily, watching Delia and Tremaine, then moves to the window right and looks off. Betty then enters with a salver from right. She moves by the back of the settee to the back of the table center,

picks up the coffee cups and goes out right. Baxter then moves over to the window, facing the audience up left. He looks off, then comes down to the right of Belinda. Now we're together again. Well, Mr. Devinish? I— No, I think I'll let Mr. Baxter speak first. I know he's longing to.

Baxter leaning on the back of the chair left of table. He clears his throat. Mrs. Tremaine, I beg formally to claim your hand. Belinda sweetly. On what grounds, Mr. Baxter? Devinish, spiritedly.

Yes, sir, on what grounds? Baxter coming to right of Chesterfield close to Belinda. On the grounds that, as I told you this morning, I had succeeded in the quest. Devinish appearing to be greatly surprised. Succeeded? Yes, Mr. Devinish, young fellow, you have lost.

He moves a few paces right to below the chair left of the table. I have discovered the missing Mr. Robinson. Devinish wiping his brow and coming to Baxter. Who? Where? Baxter dramatically.

Miss Robinson has at this moment gone out with her father. Devinish placing his hands heavily on Baxter's shoulders, who staggers. Good heavens! It was he! Baxter pats Devinish sympathetically and moves to the back of the Chesterfield and is about to speak to Belinda.

She, however, silences him as he drops down to the front of the fireplace. Belinda sympathetically. Poor Mr. Devinish. Devinish pointing tragically to the table. And to think that I actually sat on that table. No, that seat.

He points to the settee right. Then he moves upstage between it and the table. That I sat there with him this morning and never guessed. Why, ten minutes ago I was asking him for the nuts. Aha! Devinish, you're not so clever as you thought you were. Devinish coming quickly to the back of the chair left of the table.

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. Belinda alarmed. A scar on his arm?

Where a lion mauled him. Belinda gives a little cry and shudder. Oh! It's quite healed up now, Mrs. Tremaine. Belinda looking at him admiringly.

A lion! What you two have adventured for my sake. I suppose you will admit, Devinish, that I may fairly claim to have won. Looking the picture of despair, Devinish drops down left of the chair, droops his head, raises his arms and lets them fall hopelessly to his sides. Mr. Devinish, I have never admired you so much as I do at this moment.

She extends her right hand to Devinish, who groups for it with his left hand and eventually manages to seize it. Baxter noticing he is holding her hand, moving to them and looking at them quizzically. Indignantly to Devinish. 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. They release their hands. Mrs. Tremaine, I claim the reward which I have earned. Belinda after a pause and rising. Mr. Baxter, Mr. Devinish, I have something to tell you.

Devinish moves to her right. Belinda kneels upon the Chesterfield facing them. Penitently. 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. She buries her face in her hands. Your daughter? I say, how ripping. Belinda gives him an understanding look.

Your daughter? Yes. But, but you aren't old enough to have a daughter of that age. Belinda apologetically. Well, there she is.

But, but she's grown up. Quite. Then in that case, you must be. He hesitates, evidently working it out. Belinda hastily.

I'm afraid so, Mr. Baxter. But this makes a great difference. I had no idea why when I'm fifty you would be. Belinda sighing. Yes, I suppose I should.

And when I'm sixty. Belinda pleadingly to Devinish. Can't you stop him? Devinish with a threatening gesture. Look here, Baxter, another word from the Chesterfield.

Another word from you, and you'll never get to sixty. And then there's Miss Delia. In the event of our marrying, Mrs. Tremaine, she, I take it, would be my stepdaughter. I don't think she would trouble us much, Mr. Baxter. With a slight look at Devinish.

I have an idea that she will be getting married before long. She again glances at Devinish, who returns her look gratefully. Baxter moving up left into the inner room. None the less, the fact would be disturbing. Devinish with a wink at Belinda crosses in front of her and warms his hands at the fire.

Belinda watches Baxter over the back of the Chesterfield. I've never yet considered myself seriously as a stepfather. Moving round the refectory table. I don't think I'm going too far if I say that to some extent I have been deceived in this matter. He comes down to behind the center table.

Belinda reperked fully. And so have I. I thought you loved me. Devinish sympathetically. Yes, yes. Belinda turning to him suddenly.

And Mr. Devinish too. Baxter moving to Belinda. They stand before her guiltily and having nothing to say. Belinda with a shrug. Well, I shall have to marry somebody else, that's all.

Baxter moving to below table. Who? Who? 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 were married.

Devinish eagerly. Mrs. Tremaine, what fools we are! He is your husband all the time. Yes. Baxter moving up to the right of Belinda. You've had a husband all the time?

Belinda apologetically. I lost him. It wasn't my fault. 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? I am afraid not, Mr. Baxter.

But this is very confusing. Moving towards the swing doors. This is very disturbing to a man of my age. For weeks past I have been regarding myself as a possible Benedict. I have taken steps. Back to the left end of the center table.

Only this morning, in writing to my housekeeper, I warned her that she might hear at any moment a most startling announcement. Devinish cheerfully. Oh, that's all right. That might only mean that you were getting a new bowler hat. Baxter dropping down left center a few steps, suddenly.

Ah, and what about you, sir? How is it that you take this so lightly? Triumphantly. I have it. It all becomes clear to me. You have transferred your affections to her daughter. Oh, I say, Baxter, this is very crude. And why should he not, Mr. Baxter?

Softly. He has made me very happy. Baxter staggered. He has made you happy, Mrs. Tremaine. Very happy.

Baxter thoughtfully. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. He takes a turn up the room into the inner room, muttering to himself. Belinda kneels and watches him over the back of the Chesterfield. Then he comes down again to her right side.

Mrs. Tremaine, I have taken a great resolve. Solemnly. I also will make you happy. Thumping his heart. I also will woo Miss Delia.

Oh, look here, Baxter. Baxter suddenly crossing and seizing Davanisha's arm and pulling him towards the siding-doors upright, between the Chesterfield and the table. Come, we will seek Miss Delia together. Belinda seizes Davanisha's hand as he is passing, and he, clinging to it,

nearly pulls her off the Chesterfield. She is very amused. It may be that she will send us upon another quest in which I shall again be victorious. Belinda releases her hand and slips down into the Chesterfield, tempestuously. Come, I say.

He marches the resisting Davanish to the swing-doors. Let us put it to the touch, to win or lose it all. Davanisha turning and appealing to Belinda. Please. Belinda gently.

Mr. Baxter. Harold. Baxter stops and turns round. You are too impetuous. I think that as Delia's mother—

Baxter coming down right to the foot of the center table. Your pardon, Mrs. Tremaine. In the intoxication of the moment I'm forgetting. Formally. I have the honor to ask your permission to pay my addresses.

Moustu chair left the table. Oh, 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.

Baxter indignantly. Not domesticated. Sits left of table. Why, did I not hear her tell her father at dinner that she had arranged all the flowers? There are other things than flowers.

Devinish on Baxter's right behind the table. Bed socks, for instance. Baxter. Baxter is annoyed. It's a very tricky thing, airing bed socks.

I am sure your housekeeper— Baxter silencing Devinish. Mrs. Tremaine, she will learn. The daughter of such a mother, I need say no more. 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. Devinish has already had his turn. Devinish tries to stop her. Baxter turns round and nearly catches him.

This morning alone. You should have yours alone, too. Oh, I say. Yes, yes, you are right. I must introduce myself first as a suitor.

I see that. Rising to Devinish. You stay here. I will go alone into the garden and— Moving below table and up to the swing doors.

It is perhaps a little cold out of doors for people of—of our age, Mr. Baxter. Now in the library. Baxter at the swing doors, turning to her astonished. Library? Yes.

Baxter moving down right a little. You have a library? Belinda to Devinish. He doesn't believe I have a library. You ought to see the library, Baxter.

Baxter moving more down to below right of table. But you are continually springing surprises on me this evening, Mrs. Tremaine. 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. Belinda modestly rising. I thought you came to see me. Yes, yes, to see you, certainly. But if I had known you had a library—

Oh, I am so glad I mentioned it. Wasn't it lucky, Mr. Devinish? My work has been greatly handicapped of late. Deli and Tremaine enter the garden from up left and past the window at the back. Belinda sweetly.

By me? I was about to say, by lack of certain books to which I wanted to refer. It would be a great help. He moves upright reflectively muttering, Library. Library.

Belinda moving below and to right of center table. My dear Mr. Baxter, my whole library is at your disposal. She turns to Devinish, who is on her left and at the back of the table. She speaks in a confidential whisper. I'm just going to show him the Encyclopedia Britannica.

She moves below the settee to the door right. You won't mind waiting. Delia will be in directly. Baxter still muttering, Library. Library.

Crosses to the door and opens it for her. She goes out and he follows her. Devinish moves to the right of the swing door and welcomes Delia and Tremaine. Tremaine enters from the portico and holds open the swing doors for Delia. Delia speaking from the portico.

Hello, we're just coming in. They enter and Delia moves down right of the table. Where's Mrs. Tremaine? Devinish moving to down right. She's gone to the library with Baxter.

Tremaine coming down on Delia's right side carelessly. Oh, the library. Where's that? Devinish promptly going towards the door, opening it and standing above it. The end door on the right.

Delia sits on the right end of the table facing right. Right at the end. You can't mistake it. On the right. Ah, yes.

He looks round at Delia who points significantly to the door twice. Yes. He looks at Devinish. Yes. He goes out.

Devinish hastily shuts the door and comes back to Delia. I say, your mother is a ripper. Delia enthusiastically. Isn't she? Remembering.

At least you mean my aunt. Devinish smiling at her. No, I mean your mother. To think that I once had the cheek to propose to her. Oh, is it cheek to propose to people?

To her. But not to me. Oh, I say Delia. Delia with great dignity. Thank you.

My name is Miss Robinson. I mean, Tremaine. Well, if you're not quite sure which it is, it's much safer to call you Delia. Delia smiling.

Well, perhaps it is. And if I did propose to you, you haven't answered. Delia sitting in the chair right of the table. If you want an answer now, it's no. But if you like to wait till next April.

Devinish moving up to behind table. Reproachfully. Oh, I say, and I cut my hair for you the same afternoon. Turning quickly. You haven't really told me how you like it yet.

Oh, how bad of me. You look lovely. Devinish sitting at back of the table. And I promise to give up poetry for your sake. Perhaps I oughtn't to have asked you that.

As far as I'm concerned, Delia, I'll do it gladly. But, of course, one has to think about posterity. But you needn't be a poet. You could give posterity plenty to think about if you were a statesman. I don't quite see your objection to poetry.

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. Then you are thinking of marrying me. Well, I was just thinking in case I had to.

Devinish, he rises and taking her hands, raises her from the chair. She backs a step to right. Do. It would be rather fun if you did. And look here.

He pulls her gently back. They both sit on the table. He places his arm round her waist. I will 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.

How nice of you. Devinish magnificently holding up his left hand to heaven. Farewell, Parnassus. Delia pulling down his hand. What does that mean?

Well, it means that I have chucked poetry. A statesman's life is the life for me. Behold Mr. Devinish, the new MP. She holds up her left hand admonishingly, and he laughs apologetically. No, look here.

That was quite accidental. Delia smiling at him. I believe I shall really like you when I get to know you. 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.

You are different. They both rise from the table. She pulls him right one step. Perhaps it's your sense of humor coming back. Perhaps that's it.

It's a curious feeling. Delia pulling him towards the swing doors. Let's go outside. There's a heavenly moon. Moon? Moon?

Now where have I heard that word before? What do you mean? I was trying not to be a poet. Delia opens the doors. Well, I'll come with you, but I shall refuse to look at it.

Putting his left hand behind his back, he walks slowly out with her, saying to himself— The Prime Minister then left the house. They cross the windows at the back and go off left. Belinda and Tremaine come from the library, the latter holding the door for her to pass.

Belinda moving below the settee across the room. Thank you. I don't think it's unkind to leave him, do you? He seemed quite happy. Tremaine following her.

I shouldn't have been happy if we'd stayed. Belinda reaching the Chesterfield. She puts her feet up. Her head is towards left. Yes, but I was really thinking of Mr. Baxter.

Tremaine above table center. Not of me? Well, I thought it was Mr. Baxter's turn. Poor man, he's had a disappointment lately. Tremaine coming to right of the Chesterfield, eagerly.

A disappointment? Yes, he thought I was younger than I was. Tremaine smiling to himself. How old are you, Belinda? Belinda dropping her eyes.

Twenty-two. After a pause. He thought I was eighteen. Such a disappointment. Tremaine smiling openly at her.

Belinda, how old are you? Just about the right age, Mr. Robinson. The right age for what? For this sort of conversation. Shall I tell you how old you are?

Do you mean in figures or poetically? I meant— Mr. Devinish said I was as old as the— Now I must get this the right way around. As old as the—

I don't want to talk about Mr. Devinish. Belinda with a sigh. Nobody ever does, except Mr. Devinish. As old as the stars, and as young as the dawn. Setting herself cosily.

I think that's rather a nice age to be, don't you? A very nice age to be. 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.

Tremaine eagerly. He really is in love with Miss Robinson. Oh, yes. I expect he is out in the moonlight with her now, comparing her to Diana. Well, that accounts for him.

Now what about Baxter? 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 Encyclopedia Britannica. Well, that settles Baxter.

Are there any more men in the neighbourhood? Belinda shaking her head. Isn't it awful? I've only had those two for the last three weeks. Tremaine sits on the back of the Chesterfield and looks down at her.

Belinda. Yes, Henry? My name is John. 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? My friends call me Jack. Jack Robinson. That's the man who always goes away so quickly.

I hope you're making more of a stay. Tremaine sees in her by both arms. Oh, you maddening, maddening woman! Well, I have to keep the conversation going. You do nothing but say, Belinda.

Tremaine taking her hand. Have you ever loved anybody seriously, Belinda? I don't ever do anything very seriously. The late Mr. Tremaine, my first husband, Jack. Isn't it funny?

His name was Jack. He used to complain about it, too, sometimes. Tremaine with conviction. Silly ass. Ah, I think you are a little hard on the late Mr. Tremaine.

Belinda, I want you to marry me and forget about him. Belinda happily to herself and lying back. This is the proposal that those lamb cutlets interrupted this morning. Belinda, I love you. Do you understand?

Suppose my first husband turns up suddenly, like, like EA. Like who? Well, like anybody. He won't. I know he won't.

Don't you love me enough to risk it, Belinda? I haven't really said I love you at all yet. Well, say it now. Belinda looks at him and then down again. You do?

Well, I'm going to have a kiss anyway. He kisses her quickly, moves to left as Chesterfield. There. Belinda rising. Oh, the late Mr. Tremaine never did that.

She powders her nose. I have already told you that he was a silly ass. He makes a move as if to kiss her again. Belinda holding up her hand and sitting on the right side of the Chesterfield. I shall scream for Mr. Baxter.

Tremaine sitting down on the Chesterfield on her left side. Belinda. Yes, Henry? I mean, Jack? Do you know who I am?

He is thoroughly enjoying the surprise he is about to give her. Belinda nodding. Yes, Jack. Who? Jack Tremaine.

Tremaine jumping up. Good heavens, you know. Belinda gently. Yes, Jack. Tremaine angrily.

You've known all the time that I was your husband and you've been playing with me and leading me on. Belinda mildly. Well, darling, you knew all the time that I was your wife and you've been making love to me and leading me on. That's different. Belinda to herself.

That's just what the late Mr. Tremaine 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. Tremaine remorsefully. Darling, I was a fool then. And I'm a fool now. 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. You, darling, I. He kisses her.

How did you find out who I was? Belinda awkwardly. Well, it was rather curious, darling. After a pause. It was April, and I felt all sort of April-y 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. Tremaine—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. What an extraordinary story!

Yes, darling. It's really much more extraordinary than that. I think perhaps I'd better tell you the rest of it another time. Cooxingly. Now, show me where the nasty lion scratched you.

Tremaine pulls up his sleeve. Oh! She kisses his arm. You shouldn't have left Chelsea, darling. I should never have found you if I hadn't.

Belinda squeezing his arm. No, Jack, you wouldn't. After a pause. I—I've got another little surprise for you if—if you're ready for it. Standing up and moving to the chair left at the table.

Properly speaking, I ought to be wearing white. I shall certainly stand up while I'm telling you. Modestly. Darling, we have a daughter. Our little Delia.

He is standing in front of the fireplace. Delia? You said her name was Robinson. Yes, darling, but you said yours was. One always takes one's father's name.

Unless, of course, you were Lord Robinson. But you said her name was Robinson before you. She makes a playful move. Oh, never mind about that. A daughter?

Belinda, how could you let me go and not tell me? 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. Tremaine taking her in his arms. Oh, Belinda, don't let me ever go away again.

Devaney, Shindelia enter from up left and past the windows on the way to the swing doors. I'm not going to, Jack. I'm going to settle down into a stayed old married woman. 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. You darling. They embrace. Delia and Devaney come in from the garden.

Tremaine quietly to Belinda. Our daughter. Delia going up to Tremaine. You're my father. If you don't mind very much, Delia.

You've been away a long time. I'll do my best to make up for it. Delia, darling, I think you might kiss your poor old father. As she goes to, Devaney suddenly and hastily kisses Belinda on the cheek. Just in case you're going to be my mother-in-law.

We seem to be rather a family party. Belinda suddenly. There. Moving to the door left. We've forgotten Mr. Baxter again.

Baxter, who has come in quietly with a book in his hand. Oh, don't mind about me, Mrs. Tremaine. I've enjoyed myself immensely. He crosses to the armchair below the fireplace and places it in front of the fire. Belinda and Tremaine move up into the inner room by the refectory table and embrace.

Their backs to Baxter. Delia and Devaney are by the swing doors. They also embrace. Their backs to Baxter. Referring to his book.

I've been collecting some most valuable information on Looking round at them and sitting in the armchair and continuing to read. Lunacy in the er... County of Devonshire. The Curtain Falls.

End of Act 3 End of Belinda and April Folly in Three Acts by A. A. Milne