(Tremayne shakes Baxter quite gently by the hand.)
Baxter, this is Mr. Robinson. (Casually.) R-o-b-i-n-s-o-n. (He looks sideways at Baxter to see how he takes it. Baxter is noticeably impressed.)
Baxter. Really? I am very glad to meet you, sir.
Tremayne. Very good of you to say so.
Devenish (to Baxter, taking his arm. Baxter is annoyed and gets free). Robinson is a great big-game hunter.
Baxter (moving down to Tremayne). Indeed? I have never done anything in that way myself, but I'm sure it must be an absorbing pursuit.
Tremayne. Oh, well, it's something to do.
Devenish (to Baxter). You must get him to tell you about a wrestle he had with a lion once. Extraordinary story! (Looking at his watch suddenly.) Jove! I must be off. See you again, Baxter. (He bangs Baxter on the shoulder and moves down to Tremayne.) Good-bye, Robinson. No, don't shake hands. I'm in a hurry. (He looks at his watch again and goes out hurriedly by the door on the R.)
(Tremayne sits on settee R. and Baxter on chair R. of C. table. He puts his hat on the table.)
Tremayne. Unusual man, your friend Devenish. I suppose it comes of being a poet.