g away your cigars, because smoking is
allowed all over the house.
TREMAYNE. Oh, we've finished, thank you.
BELINDA. 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.
DEVENISH (quickly). I don't think I've ever seen it by moonlight, Miss
Delia.
BELINDA. I thought poets were always seeing things by moonlight.
BAXTER. I was hoping, Mrs. Tremayne, that--er--perhaps--
DELIA. Come along, Mr. Robinson.
(TREMAYNE _looks at_ BELINDA, who gives him a nod.)
TREMAYNE. It's very kind of you, Miss Robinson. I suppose there is no
chance of a nightingale?
BELINDA. There ought to be. I ordered one specially for Mr. Devenish.
(DELIA and TREMAYNE go out together. BELINDA settles herself comfortably
on the sofa.) Now we're together again. Well, Mr. Devenish?
DEVENISH. Er--I--
BELINDA. No; I think I'll let Mr. Baxter speak first. I know he's
longing to.
BAXTER. Yes. H'r'm! Mrs. Tremayne, I beg formally to claim your hand.
BELINDA (sweetly). On what grounds, Mr. Baxter?
DEVENISH (spiritedly). Yes, sir, on what grounds?
BAXTER. On the grounds that, as I told you this morning, I had succeeded
in the quest.
DEVENISH (appearing to be greatly surprised). Succeeded?
BAXTER. Yes, Mr. Devenish, young fellow, you have lost. I have
discovered the missing Mr. Robinson.
DEVENISH. Who--where--
BAXTER (dramatically). Miss Robinson has at this moment gone out with
her father.
DEVENISH. Good heavens! It was he!
BELINDA (sympathetically). Poor Mr. Devenish!
DEVENISH (pointing tragically to the table). And to think that I
actually sat on that table--no, that seat--no, not that one, it was the
sofa--that I sat on the sofa with him this morning, and never guessed!
Why, ten minutes ago I was asking him for the nuts!
BAXTER. Aha, Devenish, you're not so clever as you thought you were.
DEVENISH. 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?
DEVENISH. Where a lion mauled him.
(BELINDA gives a little shudder.)
BAXTER. It's quite healed up now, Mrs. Tremayne.
BELINDA (looking at him admiringly). A lion! What you two have
adventured for my sake!
BAXTER. I suppose you will admit, Devenish, that I may fairly claim to
have won
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