Betty. No, ma'am. And suppose any other gentleman calls?
Belinda (with a sigh). There aren't any other gentlemen.
Betty. It might be a clergyman, come to ask for a subscription like.
Belinda. If it's a clergyman, Betty, I shall–I shall want your assistance out of the hammock first.
Betty. Yes, ma'am.
Belinda. That's all.
(Betty crosses below table and chairs to porch.)
To anybody else I'm not at home, (Trying to secure book on table and nearly falling out of the hammock.) Oh, just give me that little green book. (Pointing to books on the table.) The one at the bottom there–that's the one. (Betty gives it to her.) Thank you. (Reading the title.) "The Lute of Love," by Claude Devenish. (To herself as she turns the pages.) It doesn't seem much for half-a-crown when you think of the Daily Telegraph .... Lute ... Lute .... I should have quite a pretty mouth if I kept on saying that. (With a great deal of expression.) Lute! (She pats her mouth back.)
Betty. Is that all, ma'am?
Belinda. That's all. (Betty prepares to go.) Oh, what am I thinking of! (Waving to the table.) I want that review; I think it's the blue one. (As Betty begins to look.) It has an article by Mr. Baxter on the "Rise of Lunacy in the Eastern Counties"—