It's all very well to take your defeat like a man, but
you mustn't overdo it. (_They release their hands_.) Mrs. Tremayne,
I claim the reward which I have earned.
BELINDA (_after a pause and rising_). Mr. Baxter--Mr. Devenish, I
have something to tell you.
(DEVENISH _moves to her_ R.)
(BELINDA _kneels upon the Chesterfield facing them. Penitently_.) I
have not been quite frank with you. I think you both ought to know that--
I--I made a mistake. Delia is not my niece; she is my daughter. (_She
buries her face in her hands_.)
DEVENISH. Your daughter! I say, how ripping!
(BELINDA _gives him an understanding look_.)
BAXTER. Your daughter!
BELINDA. Yes.
BAXTER. But--but you aren't old enough to have a daughter of that age.
BELINDA (_apologetically_). Well, there she is.
BAXTER. But--but she's grown up.
BELINDA. Quite.
BAXTER. Then in that case you must be----(_He hesitates, evidently
working it out_.)
BELINDA (_hastily_). I'm afraid so, Mr. Baxter.
BAXTER. But this makes a great difference. I had no idea. Why, when I'm
fifty you would be----
BELINDA (_sighing_).
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