Belinda. I think I must see Mr. Baxter and get it over. Do you mind if I have Mr. Devenish too? I feel more at home with both of them. I'll give you him back. Oh dear, I feel so happy to-night! (She jumps up and goes to Delia.) And is my little girl going to be happy too? That's what mothers always say on the stage. I think it's so sweet.
(They move together to below table.)
Delia (smiling at her). Yes, I think so, mummy. Of course, I'm not romantic like you. I expect I'm more like father, really.
Belinda (dreamily). Jack can be romantic now. He was telling me this morning all about the people he has proposed to. I mean, I was telling him. Anyhow, he wasn't a bit like a father. Of course, he doesn't know he is a father yet. Darling, I think you might take him into the garden; only don't let him know who he is. You see, he ought to propose to me first, oughtn't he?
(The men come in from R. Tremayne goes to the foot of the settee R., Devenish to the back of the table up R., while Baxter stands at the back of the settee. Belinda moves to the front of the settee and Delia sits on the table.)
Here you all are! I do hope you haven't been throwing away your cigars, because smoking is allowed all over the house.
Tremayne (as he comes to the foot of the settee). Oh, we've finished, thank you.
Belinda (going up to the swing doors and opening them). Isn't it a wonderful night?–and so warm for April. Delia, you must show Mr. Robinson the garden by moonlight–it's the only light he hasn't seen it by.
Devenish (quickly coming to R. back of table C.). I don't think I've ever seen it by moonlight, Miss Delia.
Belinda (coming down a little). I thought poets were always seeing things by moonlight.