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Milne, A. A. (Alan Alexander), 1882-1956

"Belinda"

For weeks past I
have been regarding myself as a--a possible benedict. I have--ah--taken
steps. (_Back to the_ L. _end of the_ C. _table_.) Only this morning,
in writing to my housekeeper, I warned her that she might hear at
any moment a most startling announcement.
DEVENISH (_cheerfully_). Oh, that's all right. That might only mean
that you were getting a new bowler-hat.
BAXTER (_dropping down_ L.C. _a few steps--suddenly_). Ah, and
what about you, sir? How is it that you take this so lightly?
(_Triumphantly_.) I have it. It all becomes clear to me. You have
transferred your affections to her daughter!
DEVENISH. Oh, I say, Baxter, this is very crude.
BELINDA. And why should he not, Mr. Baxter? (_Softly_.) He has made
me very happy.
BAXTER (_staggered_). He has made you happy, Mrs. Tremayne!
BELINDA. Very happy.
BAXTER (_thoughtfully_). Oh! Oh ho! Oh ho! (_He takes a turn up
the room into the inner room, muttering to himself_. BELINDA
_kneels and watches him over the back of the Chesterfield. Then he
comes down again to her_ R. _side_.) Mrs. Tremayne, I have taken
a great resolve.


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