Well, as a matter of fact, I have.
DEVENISH. I suppose you won all right?
TREMAYNE. In the end, with the help of my beater.
DEVENISH. Personally I should have backed you alone against any two
ordinary lions.
TREMAYNE. One was quite enough. As it was, he gave me something to
remember him by. (_Putting up his left sleeve, he displays a deep
scar_.)
DEVENISH (_looking at it casually_). By Jove, that's a nasty one!
(_He suddenly catches sight of the mole and stares at it fascinated,
then stares up at_ TREMAYNE.) Good heavens!
TREMAYNE. What's the matter?
DEVENISH (_clasping his head_). Wait. (_Rising and moving up to
L. _of_ TREMAYNE.) Let me think. (_After a pause_.) Have you
ever met a man called Baxter?
TREMAYNE. No.
DEVENISH. Would you like to?
TREMAYNE (_grimly_). Very much indeed.
DEVENISH. He's the man I told you about who's interested in Robinsons.
He'll be delighted to meet you. (_With a nervous laugh_.) Funny
thing, he's rather an authority on lions. You must show him that scar
of yours; it will intrigue him immensely. (_Earnestly_.)
_Don't_ shake hands with him too heartily just at first; it might
put him off the whole thing.
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