? Beyond the fact that his
name is Robinson--

BELINDA. I shouldn't go on that too much. You see, he may easily have
changed it by now. He was never very much of a Robinson. Nothing to do
with Peter or any of those.

DEVENISH. I will find him.

BAXTER. Well, can you tell us what he's like?

BELINDA. Well, it's such a long time since I saw him. (Looking down
modestly.) Of course, I was quite a girl then. The only thing I know for
certain is that he has a mole on his left arm about here. (She indicates
a spot just below the elbow.)

DEVENISH (folding his arms and looking nobly upwards). I will find him.

BAXTER. I am bound to inform you, Mrs. Tremayne, that even a trained
detective could not give you very much hope in such a case. However, I
will keep a look-out for him, and, of course, if--

DEVENISH. Fear not, lady, I will find him.

BAXTER (annoyed). Yes, you keep on saying that, but what have you got to
go on?

DEVENISH (grandly). Faith! The faith which moves mountains.

BELINDA. Yes, and this is only just one small mole-hill, Mr. Baxter.

BAXTER. Yes, but still--

BELINDA. S'sh! here is Miss Robinson. If Mr. Devenish will hold the
hammock while I alight--we don't want an accident--I can introduce
you. (He helps her to get out.) Thank you. Delia darling, this is Mr.
Baxter,--and Mr. Devenish. My niece, Miss Robinson--

DELIA. How do you do?

BELINDA. Miss Robinson has just come over from France. _Mon Dieu, quel
pays!_

BAXTER. I hope you had a good crossing, Miss Robinson.

DELIA. Oh, I never mind about the crossing. Aunt Belinda--(She stops and
smiles.)

BELINDA. Yes, dear?

DELIA. I believe tea is almost ready. I want mine, and I'm sure Mr.
Baxter's hungry. Mr. Devenish scorns food, I expect.

DEVENISH (hurt). Why do you say that?

DELIA. Aren't you a poet?

BELINDA. Yes, darling, but that doesn't prevent him eating. He'll be
absolutely lyrical over Betty's sandwiches.

DEVENISH. You won't deny me that inspiration, I hope, Miss Robinson.

BELINDA. Well, let's go and see what they're like. (DELIA and DEVENISH
begin to move towards the house.) Mr. Baxter, just a moment.

BAXTER. Yes?

BELINDA (secretly). Not a word to her about Mr. Robinson. It must be a
surprise for her.

BAXTER. Quite so, I understand.

BELINDA. That's right. (Raising her voice.) Oh, Mr. Devenish.

DEVENISH. Yes, Mrs. Tremayne? (He comes back.)

BELINDA (secretly). Not a word to her about Mr. Robinson. It must