BELINDA. And so the third Mr. Robinson—?
BAXTER. 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.
BELINDA (to herself). Mariton! How funny! I wonder if it's the same one.
BAXTER. What one?
BELINDA. Oh, just one of the ones. (Gratefully.) Mr. Baxter, you are doing all this for me.
BAXTER. Pray do not mention it. I don't know if it's Devonshire (going to and sitting L. of BELINDA), 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.
BELINDA (gravely). 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—(She looks absently at the watch on her wrist.) Good gracious!
BAXTER (alarmed). What is it!
BELINDA (looking anxiously from the door to him). Mr. Baxter, I'm going to throw myself on your mercy.
BAXTER. My dear Mrs. Tremayne—
BELINDA (looking at her watch again, rising and moving up L.C., looking at door). A strange man will be here directly. He must not find you with me.
BAXTER (rising, jealously). A man?
BELINDA (excitedly). Yes, yes, a man! He is pursuing me with his attentions. If he found you here, there would be a terrible scene.
BAXTER. I will defend you from him.
BELINDA (crossing down to R. of Chesterfield). No, no. He is a big man. He will—he will overpower you. (Moving L. a little and looking out of windows.)
BAXTER. But you―!
BELINDA. I can defend myself. I will send him away. But he must not find you here. You must hide before he overpowers you.
BAXTER (with dignity, crossing below table to R.). I will withdraw if you wish it. BELINDA (following to R. at back of table C.). No, not withdraw, hide. He might see you withdrawing. (Leading the way to the cupboard door.) Quick, in here.
BAXTER (embarrassed at the thought that this sort of thing really only happens in a bedroom farce and moving towards her). I don't think I quite―
BELINDA (reassuring him). It's perfectly respectable; it's where we keep the umbrellas. (She takes him by the hand.)
BAXTER (resisting and looking nervously into the cupboard). I'm not at all sure that I―
BELINDA (earnestly). Oh, but don't you see what trust I'm putting in you? (To herself.) Some people are so nervous about their umbrellas.
BAXTER. Well, of course, if you—but I don't see why I shouldn't just slip out of the door before he comes.
BELINDA (reproachfully). Of course, if you grudge me every little pleasure―(Crossing in front of BAXTER towards swing doors and seeing TREMAYNE coming.) Quick! Here he is.
(She bundles him through the cupboard door and closes it and with a sign of happiness crosses down to C. table. She sees BAXTER'S 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, "Your hat!")
BAXTER (expostulating and nearly knocking her over as he comes out). Well, really I―
BELINDA (bundling him into the cupboard and closing the door). Hush!
(BELINDA straightens her hair, takes up her book from L. of C. table and sits, stroking the head of the toy dog and pretending to read. TREMAYNE enters from garden up R. and through the swing doors up R.C. BELINDA gives an assumed cry of surprise.)
TREMAYNE (at the swing doors). It's no good your pretending to be surprised, because you said I could come. (Coming down to the back of the table C. and putting down his hat.)
BELINDA (rising, shaking hands and welcoming him). But I can still be surprised that you wanted to come.
TREMAYNE Oh no, you aren't.
BELINDA (marking it off on her fingers). Just a little bit—that much.
TREMAYNE. It would be much more surprising if I hadn't come.
BELINDA (crossing to the Chesterfield, picking up her book and handing it to TREMAYNE, who puts it on the table). It is a pretty garden, isn't it? (She sits on R. end of Chesterfield.)
TREMAYNE (coming to her). You forget that I saw the garden yesterday.
BELINDA. 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. (He moves behind the Chesterfield to the left end of it.) And then you're coming to dinner again to–night.
TREMAYNE (eagerly and leaning over the Chesterfield). Am I?
BELINDA. Yes. Haven't you been asked?
TREMAYNE (going round the left end of the Chesterfield). No, not a word.
BELINDA. Yes, that's quite right; I remember now, I only thought of it this morning, so I couldn't ask you before, could I?
TREMAYNE (earnestly). What made you think of it then?
BELINDA (romantically). It was at the butcher's.
TREMAYNE. Eh?
BELINDA. 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." (Protaically.) I do hope you like lamb?
TREMAYNE (sitting on her left side). I adore it.
BELINDA. 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.
TREMAYNE (jealously). Who's Mr. Devenish?
BELINDA. Oh, haven't you met him? He's always coming here.
TREMAYNE Is he in love with you too?
BELINDA. Too? Oh, you mean Mr. Baxter?
TREMAYNE (rising and moving to fireplace). Confound it, that's three!
BELINDA (innocently). Three? (She looks up at him and down again.)
TREMAYNE. Who is Mr. Baxter?
BELINDA. Oh, haven't you met him? He's always coming here.
TREMAYNE (turning away and looking into fireplace). Who is Mr. Baxter?
(BAXTER appears at cupboard doorway. BELINDA hears him and gives a startled look round. She signs to him to go back. BAXTER retreats immediately and closes door.)
BELINDA. Oh, he's a sort of statistician. Isn't that a horrid word to say? So stishany.