O-oh! ... Now tell me what
really did happen?
TREMAYNE. I was on my way to Marytown--
BELINDA. To where?
TREMAYNE. Marytown.
BELINDA. Oh, you mean Mariton.
TREMAYNE. Do I?
BELINDA. Yes; we always call it Mariton down here. (Earnestly.)
You don't mind, do you?
TREMAYNE (smiling). Not a bit.
BELINDA. Just say it--to see if you've got it right.
TREMAYNE. Mariton.
BELINDA (shaking her head). Oh no, that's quite wrong. Try it
again (With a rustic accent.) Mariton.
TREMAYNE. Mariton.
BELINDA. Yes, that's much better. ... (As if it were he who had
interrupted.) Well, do go on.
TREMAYNE. I'm afraid it isn't much of an apology really. I saw what
looked like a private road, but what I rather hoped wasn't, and--
well, I thought I'd risk it. I do hope you'll forgive me.
BELINDA. Oh, but I love people seeing my garden. Are you staying in
Mariton?
TREMAYNE. I think so. Oh yes, decidedly.
BELINDA. Well, perhaps the next time the road won't feel so
private.
TREMAYNE. How charming of you! (He feels he must know.) Are you
Mrs. Tremayne by any chance?
BELINDA. Yes.
TREMAYNE (nodding to himself). Yes.
BELINDA. How did you know?
TREMAYNE (hastily inventing). They use you as a sign-post in the
village. Past Mrs. Tremayne's house and then bear to the left--
BELINDA.
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