BELINDA. And so the third Mr. Robinson—?
BAXTER. Something for which I cannot altogether account inspires me with hope. He is, I have discovered, staying at Mariton. This afternoon I go to look for him.
BELINDA (to herself). Mariton! How funny! I wonder if it's the same one.
BAXTER. What one?
BELINDA. Oh, just one of the ones. (Gratefully.) Mr. Baxter, you are doing all this for me.
BAXTER. Pray do not mention it. I don't know if it's Devonshire, or the time of the year, or the sort of atmosphere you create, Mrs. Tremayne, but I feel an entirely different man. There is something in the air which—yes, I shall certainly go over to Mariton this afternoon.
BELINDA (gravely). I have had the same feeling sometimes, Mr. Baxter. I am not always the staid respectable matron which I appear to you to be. Sometimes I—(She looks absently at the watch on her wrist.) Good gracious!
BAXTER (alarmed). What is it!
BELINDA (looking anxiously from the door to him). Mr. Baxter, I'm going to throw myself on your mercy.
BAXTER. My dear Mrs. Tremayne—