DEVENISH (_appearing to be greatly surprised_). Succeeded?
BAXTER. Yes, Mr. Devenish, young fellow, you have lost. (_He moves a
few paces_ R. _to below the chair_ L. _of the table_.) I have
discovered the missing Mr. Robinson.
DEVENISH (_wiping hit brow and coming to_ BAXTER). Who--where--
BAXTER (_dramatically_). Miss Robinson has at this moment gone out
with her father.
DEVENISH (_placing his hands heavily on_ BAXTER'S _shoulders, who
staggers_). Good heavens! It was he!
(_BAXTER pats_ DEVENISH _sympathetically and moves to the back of
the Chesterfield and is about to speak to_ BELINDA. _She, however,
silences him and he drops down to the front of the fireplace_.)
BELINDA (_sympathetically_). Poor Mr. Devenish!
DEVENISH (_pointing tragically to the table_). And to think that I
actually sat on that table--no, that seat (_he points to the
settee_ R., _then he moves up stage between it and the table_)--
that I sat there with him this morning, and never guessed! Why, ten
minutes ago I was asking him for the nuts!
BAXTER. Aha, Devenish, you're not so clever as you thought you were.
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