across there. Not bad, I hope?
TREMAYNE (_laughing_). Well, it doesn't show unless I do that. (_He pulls up his sleeve carelessly and_ BAXTER _bends eagerly over his arm and sees the mole and very slowly looks up at_ TREMAYNE, _then down at the arm again, then up at_ TREMAYNE.)
BAXTER. Good heavens! I've found it! (_He runs over to the table and picks up his hat_.)
TREMAYNE. Found what? (_He pulls down his sleeve_.)
BAXTER (_going up_ L.). I must see Mrs. Tremayne. Where's Mrs. Tremayne?
TREMAYNE. She went out just now. What's the matter?
BAXTER. Out! I must find her. This is a matter of life and death. (_He hurries through the swing doors_.) Mrs. Tremayne! Mrs. Tremayne! (_He exits_ R. _through the garden_.)
(TREMAYNE _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_, BELINDA _comes back_ R.)
BELINDA (_crossing below settee_). Such a to-do in the kitchen! The cook's given notice--at least she will directly--(_up to_ TREMAYNE)--and your lamb cutlet slipped back to the shop when nobody was looking
(TREMAYNE _looks off at swing doors_)
and I've got to go into the village again, (_going to the refectory table and getting her hat_) and ok dear, oh dear, I have such a lot of things to do! (_Looking across at MR. BAXTER'S door_.) Oh yes, that's another one. (_Coming back to table_ C. _and putting down her hat on R. side_.)
TREMAYNE. Belinda-- (_Moving up to her_.)
BELINDA. No, not even Belinda. Wait till this evening.
TREMAYNE. I have a thousand things to say to you; I shall say them this evening.
BELINDA (_giving him her hand_). Begin about eight o'clock. Good-bye till then.
(_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_ L.)
(BELINDA _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 MR. BAXTER _again. With a smile she goes to the door and taps gently_.)
BELINDA. Mr. Baxter, Mr. Baxter, you may come in now; he has withdrawn. (_Moves down a little and then back to_ L. _of the door again_.) Mr. Baxter, I have unhanded him. (_She opens the door and going in, finds the room empty_.) Oh!
(BAXTER _comes quickly through the swing doors_.)
BAXTER (_meeting_ BELINDA _coming out of the cupboard_). Ah, (_they both start_) there you are! (_Crossing down to_ R. _end of_ C. _table, he puts down his hat_.)
BELINDA (_turning with a start_). Oh, how you frightened me, Mr. Baxter! I couldn't think what had happened to you. (_She closes the door_.) I thought perhaps you'd been eaten up by one of the umbrellas.
BAXTER. Mrs. Tremayne, I have some wonderful news for you. I have found Miss Robinson's father.
BELINDA (_on his_ L., _hardly understanding_). Miss Bobinson's father?
BAXTER. Yes. _Mr_. Robinson.
BELINDA. Oh, you mean--(_Points to direction when TREMAYNE has gone_.) Oh yes, he told me his name was Robinson--Oh, but he's no relation.
BAXTER. Wait! I saw his arm. By a subterfuge I managed to see his arm.
BELINDA (_her eyes opening more and more widely as she begins to realize_). You saw--
BAXTER. I saw the mole.
BELINDA (_coming down to him faintly as she holds out her own arm_). Show me.
BAXTER (_very decorously indicating_). There!
(BELINDA _holds the place with her other hand, and stitt looking at_ MR. BAXTER, _slowly begins to laugh--half-laughter, half-tears, wonderingly, happily, contentedly_.)
BELINDA (_moving to_ R. _of table and sitting_). And I didn't know!
BAXTER (_moving to back of table_). Mrs. Tremayne, I am delighted to have done this service for your niece----
BELINDA (_to herself_). Of course, _he_ knew all the time.
BAXTER (_to the world_). Still more am I delighted to have gained the victory over Mr. Devenish in this enterprise.
BELINDA. Eighteen years--but I _ought_ to have known.
BAXTER (_at large_). I shall not be accused of exaggerating when I say that the odds against such an enterprise were enormous.
BELINDA. Eighteen years---- And now I've eight whole _hours_ to wait!
BAXTER (_triumphantly_). It will be announced to-night. "Mr. Devenish," I shall say, "young fellow----" (_He arranges his speech in his mind_.)
BELINDA (_nodding to herself mischievously_). So I was right, after all! (_Slowly and triumphantly_.) He _does_ look better without a beard!
BAXTER (_with his hand on the back of the chair on the_ L. _side of the table_). "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 (_crossing towards fireplace_)
(BELINDA _rises stealthily, takes up her hat and exits through the swing doors and through the garden up_ R.)
when you matched yourself against a man who has read papers (_moving towards centre table_) at Soirees of the Royal Statistical Society----" (_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_.) Unusual!
(_He moves up towards the swing doors_.)
CURTAIN.
ACT III
_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_ L. _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_). What rubbish he writes!
BELINDA (_coming back from her thoughts_). Who, dear?
DELIA.
