TREMAYNE (uninterested, moving L.) Really!
DEVENISH. There is a man called Baxter—(TREMAYNE displays his jealousy of BAXTER.) who is still collecting, I believe. For myself, I am only interested in one of the great family—Delia.
TREMAYNE (eagerly, and going quickly to him and placing his hand on DEVENISH'S left shoulder). You are interested in her?
DEVENISH. Devotedly. In fact, I am at this moment waiting for her to put on her hat.
TREMAYNE (warmly, banging him on the shoulder with both hands). My dear Devenish, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. (He seizes his hand and grips it heartily.) How are you? (DEVENISH backs to the settee in pain.)
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.
BAXTER. Indeed! You came off scatheless, I trust?
TREMAYNE (carelessly indicating his arm). Well, he got me one across there.
BAXTER (rising and coming to above TREMAYNE, obviously excited). Really, really. (Points to his arm.) One across there. Not bad, I hope?
TREMAYNE (laughing). Well, it doesn't show unless I do that. (He pulls up his sleeve carelessly and BAXTER bends eagerly over his arm and sees the mole and very slowly looks up at TREMAYNE, then down at the arm again, then up at TREMAYNE.)
BAXTER. Good heavens! I've found it! (He runs over to the table and picks up his hat.)
TREMAYNE. Found what? (He pulls down his sleeve.)
BAXTER (going up L.). I must see Mrs. Tremayne. Where's Mrs. Tremayne?
TREMAYNE. She went out just now. What's the matter?
BAXTER. Out! I must find her. This is a matter of life and death. (He hurries through the swing doors.) Mrs. Tremayne! Mrs. Tremayne! (He exits R. through the garden.)