(_He
moves behind the Chesterfield to the left end of it_.) And then
you're coming to dinner again to-night.
TREMAYNE (_eagerly and leaning over the Chesterfield_). Am I?
BELINDA. Yes. Haven't you been asked?
TREMAYNE (_going round the left end of the Chesterfield_). No, not
a word.
BELINDA. Yes, that's quite right; I remember now, I only thought of it
this morning, so I couldn't ask you before, could I?
TREMAYNE (_earnestly_). What made you think of it then?
BELINDA (_romantically_). It was at the butcher's.
TREMAYNE. Eh?
BELINDA. There was one little lamb cutlet left over and sitting out all
by itself, and there was nobody to love it. And I said to myself,
suddenly, "I know, that will do for Mr. Robinson." (_Protaically_.)
I do hope you like lamb?
TREMAYNE (_sitting on her left side_). I adore it.
BELINDA. Oh, I'm so glad I When I saw it sitting there I thought you'd
love it. I'm afraid I can't tell you any more about the rest of the
dinner, because I wouldn't tell Mr. Devenish, and I want to be fair.
TREMAYNE (_jealously_). Who's Mr. Devenish?
BELINDA. Oh, haven't you met him? He's always coming here.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69