DEVENISH. Bed-socks, for instance, Baxter. It's a very tricky thing airing bed-socks. I am sure your house-keeper--

BAXTER. Mrs. Tremayne, she will learn. The daughter of such a mother...

I need say no more.

BELINDA. Oh, thank you. But there is something else, Mr. Baxter. You are not being quite fair to yourself. In starting out upon this simultaneous wooing, you forget that Mr. Devenish has already had his turn this morning alone. You should have yours... alone... too.

DEVENISH. Oh, I say!

BAXTER. Yes, yes, you are right. I must introduce myself first as a suitor. I see that. (To DEVENISH) _You_ stay here; _I_ will go alone into the garden, and--

BELINDA. It is perhaps a little cold out of doors for people of... of _our_ age, Mr. Baxter. Now, in the library--

BAXTER (astonished). Library?

BELINDA. Yes.

BAXTER. You have a library?

BELINDA (to DEVENISH). He doesn't believe I have a library.

DEVENISH. You ought to see the library, Baxter.

BAXTER. But you are continually springing surprises on me this evening, Mrs. Tremayne. First a daughter, then a husband, and then--a library! I have been here three weeks, and I never knew you had a library. Dear me, I wonder how it is that I never saw it?

BELINDA (modestly). I thought you came to see _me_.

BAXTER. Yes, yes, to see you, certainly. But if I had known you had a library....

BELINDA. Oh, I am so glad I mentioned it. Wasn't it lucky, Mr. Devenish?

BAXTER. My work has been greatly handicapped of late by lack of certain books to which I wanted to refer. It would be a great help--

BELINDA. My dear Mr. Baxter, my whole library is at your disposal. (To DEVENISH, as she leads the way to the door, in a confidential whisper.) I'm just going to show him the "Encyclopedia Britannica." (She smiles at him, and he opens the door for them both. Then he goes towards the garden door and looks outside.)

DELIA (from the garden). Hullo, we're just coming in. (He goes back and waits for them.)

TREMAYNE. Where's Mrs. Tremayne?

DEVENISH. She's gone to the library with Baxter.

TREMAYNE (carelessly). Oh, the library. Where's that?

DEVENISH (promptly going towards the door and opening it). The end door on the right. Right at the end. You can't mistake it. On the right.

TREMAYNE. Ah, yes. (He looks round at DELIA.) Yes. (He looks at DEVENISH.) Yes. [He goes out.]

(DEVENISH hastily shuts the door and comes back to DELIA.)

DEVENISH. I say, your mother is a ripper.

DELIA (enthusiastically). Isn't she! (Remembering.) At least, you mean my aunt?

DEVENISH (smiling at her). No, I mean your mother. To think that I once had the cheek to propose to her.

DELIA. Oh! Is it cheek to propose to people!

DEVENISH. To _her_.

DELIA. But not to me?

DEVENISH. Oh I say, Delia!

DELIA (with great dignity). Thank you, my name is Miss Robinson--I mean, Tremayne.

DEVENISH. Well, if you're not quite sure which it is, it's much safer to call you Delia.

DELIA (smiling). Well, perhaps it is.

DEVENISH. And if I did propose to you, you haven't answered

DELIA. If you want an answer now, it's no; but if you like to wait till next April--

DEVENISH (reproachfully). Oh, I say, and I cut my hair for you the same afternoon. You haven't really told me how you like it yet.

DELIA. Oh, how bad of me! You look lovely.

DEVENISH. And I promised to give up poetry for your sake.

DELIA. Perhaps I oughtn't to have asked you that.

DEVENISH. As far as I'm concerned, Delia, I'll do it gladly, but, of course, one has to think about posterity.

DELIA. But you needn't be a poet. You could give posterity plenty to think about if you were a statesman.

DEVENISH. I don't quite see your objection to poetry.

DELIA. You would be about the house so much. I want you to go away every day and do great things, and then come home in the evening and tell me all about it.

DEVENISH. Then you _are_ thinking of marrying me!

DELIA. Well, I was just thinking in case I had to.

DEVENISH. It would be rather fun if you did. And look here--I _will_ be a statesman, if you like, and go up to Downing Street every day, and come back in the evening and tell you all about it.

DELIA. How nice of you!

DEVENISH (magnificently, holding up his hand to Heaven). Farewell, Parna.s.sus!

DELIA. What does that mean?