She goes
slowly towards the house, turns her head just as she comes to the
door, and comes slowly back again. She stops at the table looking
down the garden.)
BELINDA (to herself). Have you lost yourself, or something?
No; the latch is this side. ... Yes, that's right.
[TREMAYNE comes in. He has been knocking about the world for
eighteen years, and is very much a man, though he has kept his
manners. His hair is greying a little at the sides, and he looks
the forty-odd that he is. Without his moustache and beard he is
very different from the boy BELINDA married.]
TREMAYNE (with his hat in his hand). I'm afraid I'm trespassing.
BELINDA (winningly). But it's such a pretty garden (turns away,
dosing her parasol), isn't it?
TREMAYNE (rather confused). I-I beg your pardon, I-er--
(He is wondering if it can possibly be she. BELINDA thinks his
confusion is due to the fact that he is trespassing, and hastens to
put him at his ease.)
BELINDA. I should have done the same myself, you know.
TREMAYNE (pulling himself together). Oh, but you mustn't think I
just came in because I liked the garden--
BELINDA (clapping her hands). No; but say you do like it, quick.
TREMAYNE. It's lovely and--(He hesitates.)
BELINDA (hopefully). Yes?
TREMAYNE (with conviction). Yes, it's lovely.
BELINDA (with that happy sigh of hers).
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