BELINDA. Oh, I thought you meant this year. (_Sitting up_.) Well now, let me see. (_Slowly and thoughtfully_.) One. (_She pushes up her first finger_.) Two. (_She pushes up the second_.) Three. (_She pushes up the third finger, holds it there for a moment and then pushes it gently down again_.) No, I don't think that one ought to count really. (_She pushes up two more fingers and the thumb_.) Three, four, five--do you want the names or just the total? TREMAYNE (_moving up_ L. _and then over_ R.). This is horrible. BELINDA (_innocently_). But anybody can propose. Now if you'd asked how many I'd accepted-- (_He turns sharply to her--annoyed_.) Let me see, where was I up to? (_He moves down_ R.) I shan't count yours, because I haven't really had it yet. (BETTY _enters down_ R. _and stands behind settee_.) Six, seven--Yes, Betty, what is it? BETTY. If you please, ma'am, cook would like to speak to you for a minute. (TREMAYNE _goes up_ R.C.) BELINDA (_getting up_). Yes, I'll come. (BETTY _goes out, leaving the door open_. BELINDA _crosses Before the table_.) (_To_ TREMAYNE.) You'll forgive me, won't you? You'll find some cigarettes there. (_Points to table up_ R. TREMAYNE _moves by the back of the settee and holds the door for_ BELINDA. _She turns to him in the doorway_.) It's probably about the lamb cutlets; I expect your little one refuses to be cooked. (_She goes out after_ BETTY.) (_Left alone_ TREMAYNE _stalks moodily about the room, crossing it and kicking things which come in his way. Violently, he kicks a hassock which is above the table_ R. _to under the table_ C., _then he takes up his hat and moves towards the swing doors and half opens them. He pauses and considers--then he comes down to the centre table, throws down his hat, moves round the left end of the table, finds the dog in the way and then sits on the table with his hands in his pockets, facing the audience. As he has been moving about the room, he has muttered the names of_ BAXTER _and_ DEVENISH.) DEVENISH (_entering from the door_ R., _which he closes and goes to foot of the settee R.--surprised_). Hullo! (_A pause_.) TREMAYNE (_jealously, and rising_). Are you Mr. Devenish? DEVENISH. Yes. TREMAYNE. Devenish the poet? DEVENISH (_coming up and shaking him warmly by the hand_). My dear fellow, you know my work? TREMAYNE (_grimly_). My dear Mr. Devenish, your name is most familiar to me. DEVENISH. I congratulate you. I thought your great-grand-children would be the first to hear of me. TREMAYNE (_moving to_ L.). My name's Robinson, by the way. DEVENISH (_connecting him with_ DELIA). Then let me return the compliment, Robinson. Your name is familiar to me. TREMAYNE (_hastily, and going towards_ DEVENISH). I don't think I'm related to any Robinsons you know.