Now where have I heard that word
before?

DELIA. What _do_ you mean?

DEVENISH. I was trying not to be a poet. Well, I'll come with you, but
I shall refuse to look at it. (Putting his left hand behind his back,
he walks slowly out with her, saying to himself) The Prime Minister then
left the House.

[BELINDA and TREMAYNE come from the library.]

BELINDA (as he opens the door). Thank you. I don't think it's unkind to
leave him, do you? He seemed quite happy.

TREMAYNE. I shouldn't have been happy if we'd stayed.

BELINDA (going to the sofa and putting her feet up). Yes, but I was
really thinking of Mr. Baxter.

TREMAYNE. Not of me?

BELINDA. Well, I thought it was Mr. Baxter's turn. Poor man, he's had a
disappointment lately.

TREMAYNE (eagerly). A disappointment?

BELINDA. Yes, he thought I was--younger than I was.

TREMAYNE (smiling to himself). How old are you, Belinda?

BELINDA (dropping her eyes). Twenty-two. (After a pause.) He thought I
was eighteen. Such a disappointment!

TREMAYNE (smiling openly at her). Belinda, how old are you?

BELINDA. Just about the right age, Mr. Robinson.

TREMAYNE. The right age for what?

BELINDA. For this sort of conversation.

TREMAYNE. Shall I tell you how old you are?

BELINDA. Do you mean in figures or--poetically?

TREMAYNE. I meant--

BELINDA. Mr. Devenish said I was as old as the--now, I must get this the
right way round--as old as the--

TREMAYNE. I don't want to talk about Mr. Devenish.

BELINDA (with a sigh). Nobody ever does--except Mr. Devenish. As old as
the stars, and as young as the dawn. (Settling herself cosily.) I think
that's rather a nice age to be, don't you?

TREMAYNE. A very nice age to be.

BELINDA. It's a pity he's thrown me over for Delia; I shall miss that
sort of thing rather. You don't say those sort of things about your
aunt-in-law--not so often.

TREMAYNE (eagerly). He really is in love with Miss Robinson!

BELINDA. Oh yes. I expect he is out in the moonlight with her now,
comparing her to Diana.

TREMAYNE. Well, that accounts for _him. _Now what about Baxter?

BELINDA. I thought I told you. Deeply disappointed to find that I
was four years older than he expected, Mr. Baxter hurried from the
drawing-room and buried himself in a column of the "Encyclopedia
Britannica."

TREMAYNE. Well, that settles Baxter. Are there any more men in the
neighbourhood?

BELINDA (shaking her head). Isn't it awful? I've only had those