(_To_
BAXTER, _giving encouragement_.) Yes?
BAXTER (_moving down a little and then returning to_ BELINDA). Mrs.
Tremayne, I am a man of substantial position--(DEVENISH _sniggers--
to_ BAXTER'S _great annoyance_.) and perhaps I may say of some
repute in serious circles.
(DEVENISH _sniggers again_.)
All that I have, whether of material or mental endowment, I lay at your
feet, together with an admiration which I cannot readily put into words.
As my wife I think you would be happy, and I feel that with you by my
side I could achieve even greater things.
BELINDA. How sweet of you! But I ought to tell you that I'm no good at
figures.
DEVENISH (_protesting_). My lady--
BELINDA. I don't mean what you mean, Mr. Devenish. You wait till it's
your turn. (_To_ BAXTER.) Yes?
BAXTER (_very formally_). I ask you to marry me, Belinda.
BELINDA (_settling herself happily and closing her eyes_). O-oh!...
Now it's _your_ turn, Mr. Devenish.
DEVENISH (_excitedly_). Money--thank Heaven, I have no money.
Reputation--thank Heaven, I have no reputation.
(BAXTER, _very annoyed, moves down and sits on deck-chair_.
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