BELINDA (_with a shrug_). Well, I shall have to marry somebody else, that's all. BAXTER (_moving to below table_). Who? Who? BELINDA. I suppose Mr. Robinson. After all, if I am Delia's mother, and Mr. Baxter says that Mr. Robinson's her father, it's about time we _were_ married. DEVENISH (_eagerly_). Mrs. Tremayne, what fools we are! He _is_ your husband all the time! BELINDA. Yes. BAXTER (_moving up to the_ R. _of_ BELINDA). You've had a husband all the time? BELINDA (_apologetically_). I lost him; it wasn't my fault. BAXTER. Really, this is very confusing. I don't know where I am. I gather--I am to gather, it seems, that you are no longer eligible as a possible wife? BELINDA. I am afraid not, Mr. Baxter. BAXTER. But this is very confusing--(_moving towards the swing doors_)--this is very disturbing to a man of my age. For weeks past I have been regarding myself as a--a possible benedict. I have--ah--taken steps. (_Back to the_ L. _end of the_ C. _table_.) Only this morning, in writing to my housekeeper, I warned her that she might hear at any moment a most startling announcement. DEVENISH (_cheerfully_). Oh, that's all right. That might only mean that you were getting a new bowler-hat. BAXTER (_dropping down_ L.C. _a few steps--suddenly_). Ah, and what about you, sir? How is it that you take this so lightly? (_Triumphantly_.) I have it. It all becomes clear to me. You have transferred your affections to her daughter! DEVENISH. Oh, I say, Baxter, this is very crude. BELINDA. And why should he not, Mr. Baxter? (_Softly_.) He has made me very happy. BAXTER (_staggered_). He has made you happy, Mrs. Tremayne! BELINDA. Very happy. BAXTER (_thoughtfully_). Oh! Oh ho! Oh ho! (_He takes a turn up the room into the inner room, muttering to himself_. BELINDA _kneels and watches him over the back of the Chesterfield. Then he comes down again to her_ R. _side_.) Mrs. Tremayne, I have taken a great resolve. (_Solemnly_.) I also will make you happy. (_Thumping his heart_.) I also will woo Miss Delia. BELINDA. Oh! DEVENISH. Look here, Baxter-- BAXTER (_suddenly crossing and seizing_ DEVENISH'S _arm and pulling him towards the siding doors up_ R. _between the Chesterfield and the table_). Come, we will seek Miss Delia together. (BELINDA _seizes_ DEVENISH'S _hand as he is passing and he, clinging to it, nearly pulls her off the Chesterfield. She is very amused_.) It may be that she will send us upon another quest in which I shall again be victorious. (BELINDA _releases her hand and slips down into the Chesterfield. Tempestuously_.) Come, I say-- (_He marches the resisting_ DEVENISH _to the swing doors_.) Let us put it to the touch, to win or lose it all. DEVENISH (_turning and appealing to_ BELINDA). Please! BELINDA (_gently_). Mr. Baxter... Harold. (BAXTER _stops and turns round_.) You are too impetuous. I think that as Delia's mother--