Belinda (coyly). Oh, Mr. Devenish! And you were so unanimous a few days ago.
Delia. I think Mr. Devenish was referring entirely to things to eat.
Belinda. I felt quite sad when I was buying the lamb cutlets. To think that, only a few days before, they had been frisking about with their mammas, and having poems written about them by Mr. Devenish. There! I'm giving away the whole dinner. Delia, take him away before I tell him any more.
(Delia rises, goes to table and picks up water carafe which she replaces on refectory table up L.)
We must keep some surprises for him.
Delia (to Devenish as she crosses back to table R. and picks up the flowers). Come along, Mr. Devenish.
Belinda (wickedly). Are those my flowers, Mr. Devenish?
Devenish (advancing to Belinda and laughing awkwardly, after a little hesitation, with a bow which might refer to either of them). They are for the most beautiful lady in the land.
Belinda. Oh, how nice of you!
(Devenish crosses to door R. and opens it for Delia, who follows him and exits. Devenish, standing above door, catches Belinda's eye and with an awkward laugh follows Delia.)