(_Looking the picture of despair,_ DEVENISH _drops down_ L. _of the chair, droops his head, raises his arms and lets them fall hopelessly to his sides_.) BELINDA. Mr. Devenish, I have never admired you so much as I do at this moment. (_She extends her_ R. _hand to_ DEVENISH, _who gropes for it with his_ L. _hand and eventually manages to seize it_.) BAXTER (_noticing he is holding her hand, moving to them and looking at them quizzically--indignantly to_ DEVENISH). I say, you know, that's not fair. It's all very well to take your defeat like a man, but you mustn't overdo it. (_They release their hands_.) Mrs. Tremayne, I claim the reward which I have earned. BELINDA (_after a pause and rising_). Mr. Baxter--Mr. Devenish, I have something to tell you. (DEVENISH _moves to her_ R.) (BELINDA _kneels upon the Chesterfield facing them. Penitently_.) I have not been quite frank with you. I think you both ought to know that-- I--I made a mistake. Delia is not my niece; she is my daughter. (_She buries her face in her hands_.) DEVENISH. Your daughter! I say, how ripping! (BELINDA _gives him an understanding look_.) BAXTER. Your daughter! BELINDA. Yes. BAXTER. But--but you aren't old enough to have a daughter of that age. BELINDA (_apologetically_). Well, there she is. BAXTER. But--but she's grown up. BELINDA. Quite. BAXTER. Then in that case you must be----(_He hesitates, evidently working it out_.) BELINDA (_hastily_). I'm afraid so, Mr. Baxter. BAXTER. But this makes a great difference. I had no idea. Why, when I'm fifty you would be---- BELINDA (_sighing_). Yes, I suppose I should. BAXTER. And when I'm sixty---- BELINDA (_pleadingly to_ DEVENISH). Can't you stop him? DEVENISH (_with a threatening gesture_). Look here, Baxter, another word from you and you'll never _get_ to sixty. BAXTER. And then there's Miss--er--Delia. In the event of our marrying, Mrs. Tremayne, she, I take it, would be my step-daughter. BELINDA. I don't think she would trouble us much, Mr. Baxter. (_With a sly look at_ DEVENISH.) I have an idea that she will be getting married before long. (_She again glances at_ DEVENISH, _who returns her look gratefully_.) BAXTER (_moving up_ L. _into the inner room_). None the less, the fact would be disturbing. (DEVENISH _with a wink at_ BELINDA _crosses in front of her and warms his hands at the fire_. BELINDA _watches_ BAXTER _over the back of the Chesterfield_.) I have never yet considered myself seriously as a step-father. (_Moving round the refectory table_.) I don't think I am going too far if I say that to some extent I have been deceived in this matter. (_He comes down to behind the_ C. _table_.) BELINDA (_reproachfully_). And so have I. I thought you loved me. DEVENISH (_sympathetically_). Yes, yes. BELINDA (_turning to him suddenly_). And Mr. Devenish too. BAXTER (_moving to_ BELINDA). Er---- DEVENISH. Er---- (_They stand before her guiltily and have nothing to say_.)