Delia. Oh, I never mind about the crossing. (Very slowly and shyly.) Aunt Belinda–(She stops and smiles.)
Belinda. Yes, dear?
Delia. I believe tea is almost ready. I want mine, and I'm sure Mr. Baxter's hungry. (He sniggers approvingly.) Mr. Devenish scorns food, I expect.
Devenish (hurt). Why do you say that?
Delia. Aren't you a poet?
Belinda. Yes, darling, but that doesn't prevent him eating. He'll be absolutely lyrical over Betty's sandwiches.
Devenish. You won't deny me that inspiration, I hope, Miss Robinson.
Belinda (taking Delia's arm and moving with her to below deck-chair). Well, let's go and see what they're like.
(Delia moves up R.C. to below the porch, accompanied by Baxter on her R. and Devenish, who follows her on her L. They all move towards the porch.)
Mr. Baxter, just a moment.