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. 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 left.]
(TREMAYNE sit down together on the sofa.)
TREMAYNE. Unusual man, your friend Devenish. I suppose it comes of being a poet.
BAXTER. I have no great liking for Mr. Devenish—
TREMAYNE. Oh, he's all right.
BAXTER. But I am sure that if he is impressed by anything outside himself or his own works, it must be something rather remarkable. Pray tell me of your adventure with the lion.
TREMAYNE (laughing). Really, you mustn't think that I go about telling everybody my adventures. It just happened to come up. I'm afraid I shook his hand rather more warmly than I meant, and he asked me if I'd ever tried strangling lions. That was all.
BAXTER. And had you?
TREMAYNE. Well, it just happened that I had.