Belinda: An April Folly in Three Acts Part 14

DEVENISH (_sitting on settee, feeling his fingers_). Fairly well, thanks.

TREMAYNE (_sitting above him and banging him on the back_). That's right.

DEVENISH (_still nursing his hand_). You are a very lucky fellow, Robinson.

TREMAYNE. In what way?

DEVENISH. People you meet must be so very reluctant to say good-bye to you. Have you ever tried strangling lions or anything like that?

TREMAYNE (_with a laugh_). 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.

TREMAYNE. This Mr. Baxter seems to be a curious man.

DEVENISH (_absently_). Yes, he is rather odd. (_Looking at his watch_.) I wonder if I----(_To_ TREMAYNE.) I suppose you won't be-- (_He stops suddenly. A slight tapping noise comes from the room where they keep umbrellas_.)

TREMAYNE. What's that!

(_The tapping noise is repeated, a little more loudly this time.

DEVENISH moves to end of table_.)

DEVENISH. Come in.

(_The door opens and_ BAXTER _comes in nervously, holding his bowler hat in his hand. He moves towards the swing doors_.)

BAXTER (_apologetically_). Oh, I just--(TREMAYNE _stands up_) --I just--(_He goes back again_.)

DEVENISH (_springing across the room_). Baxter!

(_The door opens nervously again and BAXTER'S head appears round it_.)

Come in, Baxter, old man; you're just the very person I wanted.

(BAXTER _comes in carefully_. DEVENISH _closes the door_.)

Good man. (_To_ TREMAYNE, _taking_ BAXTER _down_ R., _and placing his arm round his shoulders_.) This is Mr. Baxter that I was telling you about.

(BAXTER _removes_ DEVENISH'S _arm from his shoulders_.)

TREMAYNE (_moving up to_ BAXTER _and much relieved at the appearance of his rival_). Oh, is this Mr. Baxter? (_Holding out his hand with great friendliness_.) How are you, Mr. Baxter?

DEVENISH (_warningly_). Steady!

(TREMAYNE _shakes_ BAXTER _quite gently by the hand_.)

Baxter, this is Mr. Robinson. (_Casually_.) R-o-b-i-n-s-o-n. (_He looks sideways at_ BAXTER _to see how he takes it_. BAXTER _is noticeably impressed_.)

BAXTER. Really? I am very glad to meet you, sir.

TREMAYNE. Very good of you to say so.

DEVENISH (_to_ BAXTER, _taking his arm_. BAXTER _is annoyed and gets free_). Robinson is a great big-game hunter.

BAXTER (_moving down to_ TREMAYNE). Indeed? I have never done anything in that way myself, but I'm sure it must be an absorbing pursuit.

TREMAYNE. Oh, well, it's something to do.

DEVENISH (_to_ BAXTER). You must get him to tell you about a wrestle he had with a lion once. Extraordinary story! (_Looking at his watch suddenly_.) Jove! I must be off. See you again, Baxter. (_He bangs_ BAXTER _on the shoulder and moves down to_ TREMAYNE.) Good-bye, Robinson. No, don't shake hands. I'm in a hurry. (_He looks at his watch again and goes out hurriedly by the door on the_ R.)

(TREMAYNE _sits on settee_ R. _and_ BAXTER _on chair_ R.

_of_ C. _table. He puts his hat on the table_.)

TREMAYNE. Unusual man, your friend Devenish. I suppose it comes of being a poet.

BAXTER. I have no great liking for Mr. Devenish--

TREMAYNE. Oh, he's all right.

BAXTER. But I am sure that if he is impressed by anything outside himself or his own works, it must be something rather remarkable. Pray tell me of your adventure with the lion.

TREMAYNE (_laughing_). Really, you mustn't think that I go about telling everybody my adventures. It just happened to come up. I'm afraid I shook his hand rather more warmly than I meant, and he asked me if I'd ever tried strangling lions. That was all.

BAXTER. And had you?

TREMAYNE. Well, it just happened that I had.