Baxter. And then there's Miss–er–Delia. In the event of our marrying, Mrs. Tremayne, she, I take it, would be my step-daughter.
Belinda. I don't think she would trouble us much, Mr. Baxter. (With a sly look at Devenish.) I have an idea that she will be getting married before long. (She again glances at Devenish, who returns her look gratefully.)
Baxter (moving up L. into the inner room). None the less, the fact would be disturbing.
(Devenish with a wink at Belinda crosses in front of her and warms his hands at the fire. Belinda watches Baxter over the back of the Chesterfield.)
I have never yet considered myself seriously as a step-father. (Moving round the refectory table.) I don't think I am going too far if I say that to some extent I have been deceived in this matter. (He comes down to behind the C. table.)
Belinda (reproachfully). And so have I. I thought you loved me.
Devenish (sympathetically). Yes, yes.
Belinda (turning to him suddenly). And Mr. Devenish too.
Baxter (moving to Belinda). Er—
Devenish. Er—