BELINDA (nodding). Yes, Jack.
TREMAYNE. Who?
BELINDA. Jack Tremayne.
TREMAYNE (jumping up). Good heavens, you know!
BELINDA (gently). Yes, Jack.
TREMAYNE (angrily). You've known all the time that I was your husband, and you've been playing with me and leading me on.
BELINDA (mildly). Well, darling, you knew all the time that I was your wife, and you've been making love to me and leading me on.
TREMAYNE. That's different.
BELINDA (to herself). That's just what the late Mr. Tremayne said, and then he slammed the door and went straight off to the Rocky Mountains and shot bears; and I didn't see him again for eighteen years.
TREMAYNE (remorsefully). Darling, I was a fool then, and I'm a fool now.
BELINDA. I was a fool then, but I'm not such a fool now—I'm not going to let you go. It's quite time I married and settled down.
TREMAYNE. You darling I (He kisses her.) How did you find out who I was?
BELINDA (awkwardly). Well, it was rather curious, darling. (After a pause.) It was April, and I felt all sort of Aprily, and—and—there was the garden all full of daffodils—and—and there was Mr. Baxter—the one we left in the library—knowing all about moles. He's probably got the M. volume down now. Well, we were talking about them one day, and I happened to say that the late Mr. Tremayne—that was you, darling—had rather a peculiar one on his arm. And then he happened to see it this morning and told me about it.
TREMAYNE. What an extraordinary story!
BELINDA. Yes, darling; it's really much more extraordinary than that. I think perhaps I'd better tell you the rest of it another time. (Coaxingly.) Now show me where the nasty lion scratched you.
(TREMAYNE pulls up his sleeve.) Oh! (She kisses his arm.) You shouldn't have left Chelsea, darling.
TREMAYNE. I should never have found you if I hadn't.
BELINDA (squeezing his arm). No, Jack, you wouldn't. (After a pause.) I—I've got another little surprise for you if—if you're ready for it. (Standing up and moving to the chair L. of the table.) Properly speaking, I ought to be wearing white. I shall certainly stand up while I'm telling you. (Modestly.) Darling, we have a daughter—our little Delia. (He is standing in front of the fireplace.)
TREMAYNE. Delia? You said her name was Robinson.
BELINDA. Yes, darling, but you said yours was. One always takes one's father's name. Unless, of course, you were Lord Robinson.
TREMAYNE. But you said her name was Robinson before you—
(She makes a playful move.)
—Oh, never mind about that. A daughter? Belinda, how could you let me go and not tell me?
BELINDA. You forget how you'd slammed the door. It isn't the sort of thing you shout through the window to a man on his way to America.
TREMAYNE (taking her in his arms). Oh, Belinda, don't let me ever go away again.
(DEVENISH and DELIA enter from up L. and pass the windows on the way to the swing doors.)
BELINDA. I'm not going to, Jack. I'm going to settle down into a staid old married woman.
TREMAYNE. Oh no, you're not. You're going on just as you did before. And I'm going to propose to you every April, and win you, over all the other men in love with you.
BELINDA. You darling! (They embrace.)
(DELIA and DEVENISH come in from the garden.)
TREMAYNE (quietly to BELINDA). Our daughter.
DELIA (going up to TREMAYNE). You're my father.
TREMAYNE. If you don't mind very much, Delia.
DELIA. You've been away a long time.
TREMAYNE. I'll do my best to make up for it.
BELINDA. Delia, darling, I think you might kiss your poor old father.
(As the does to, DEVENISH suddenly and hastily kisses BELINDA on the cheek.)
DEVENISH. Just in case you're going to be my mother–in–law.
TREMAYNE. We seem to be rather a family party.
BELINDA (suddenly). There! (Moving to the door L.) We've forgotten Mr. Baxter again.
BAXTER (who has come in quietly with a book in his hand). Oh, don't mind about me, Mrs. Tremayne. I've enjoyed myself immensely. (He crosses to the arm–chair below the fireplace and places it in front of the fire.)
(BELINDA and TREMAYNE move up into the inner room by the refectory table and embrace, their backs to BAXTER. DELIA and DEVENISH are by the swing doors. They also embrace, their backs to BAXTER.)
(Referring to his book.) I have been collecting some most valuable information on (looking round at them and sitting in the arm–chair and continuing to read) lunacy in the—er—county of Devonshire.
(The CURTAIN falls.)