BELINDA. If it's a clergyman, Betty, I shall--I shall want your
assistance out of the hammock first.
BETTY. Yes, ma'am.
BELINDA. That's all.
(BETTY _crosses below table and chairs to porch_.)
To anybody else I'm not at home, (_Trying to secure book on table and
nearly falling out of the hammock_.) Oh, just give me that little
green book. (_Pointing to books on the table_.) The one at the
bottom there--that's the one. (BETTY _gives it to her_.) Thank you.
(_Reading the title_.) "The Lute of Love," by Claude Devenish.
(_To herself as she turns the pages_.) It doesn't seem much for
half-a-crown when you think of the _Daily Telegraph_ .... Lute ...
Lute .... I should have quite a pretty mouth if I kept on saying that.
(_With a great deal of expression_.) Lute! (_She pats her mouth
back_.)
BETTY. Is that all, ma'am?
BELINDA. That's all. (BETTY _prepares to go_.) Oh, what am I
thinking of! (_Waving to the table_.) I want that review; I think
it's the blue one. (_As_ BETTY _begins to look_.) It has an
article by Mr. Baxter on the "Rise of Lunacy in the Eastern Counties"--
(BETTY _gives her "The Nineteenth Century" Magazine_.
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