(_The door opens and_ BAXTER _comes in nervously, holding his bowler hat in his hand. He moves towards the swing doors_.) BAXTER (_apologetically_). 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_. DEVENISH _closes the door_.) Good man. (_To_ TREMAYNE, _taking_ BAXTER _down_ R., _and placing his arm round his shoulders_.) This is Mr. Baxter that I was telling you about. (BAXTER _removes_ DEVENISH'S _arm from his shoulders_.) TREMAYNE (_moving up to_ BAXTER _and 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, _taking his arm_. BAXTER _is annoyed and gets free_). Robinson is a great big-game hunter. BAXTER (_moving down to_ TREMAYNE). Indeed? I have never done anything in that way myself, but I'm sure it must be an absorbing pursuit. 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. (_He bangs_ BAXTER _on the shoulder and moves down to_ TREMAYNE.) 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_ R.) (TREMAYNE _sits on settee_ R. _and_ BAXTER _on chair_ R. _of_ C. _table. He puts his hat on the table_.) 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. BAXTER. Indeed! You came off scatheless, I trust? TREMAYNE (_carelessly indicating his arm_). Well, he got me one across there. BAXTER (_rising and coming to above_ TREMAYNE, _obviously excited_). Really, really. (_Points to his arm_.) One across there. Not bad, I hope?