DEVENISH. Come in.
(The door opens and BAXTER comes in nervously, holding his bowler hat in his hand.)
BAXTER. Oh, I just—(TREMAYNE stands up)—I just—(He goes back again.)
DEVENISH (springing across the room). Baxter! (The door opens nervously again and BAXTER'S head appears round it.) Come in, Baxter, old man; you're just the very person I wanted. (BAXTER comes in carefully.) Good man. (To TREMAYNE) This is Mr. Baxter that I was telling you about.
TREMAYNE (much relieved at the appearance of his rival). Oh, is this Mr. Baxter? (Holding out his hand with great friendliness) How are you, Mr. Baxter?
DEVENISH (warningly). Steady! (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). Robinson is a great big-game hunter.
BAXTER. Indeed? I have never done anything in that way myself, but I'm sure it must be an absorbing pursuit.