(With great expression.) The Lute of Love--the
Lute. (She pats her mouth back.)
TREMAYNE. And what is Mr. Devenish--
BELINDA (putting her hand on his sleeve). You'll let me know when
it's my turn, won't you?
TREMAYNE. Your turn?
BELINDA. Yes, to ask questions. I love this game--it's like clumps.
(She crosses her hands on her lap and waits for the next question.)
TREMAYNE. I beg your pardon. I--er--of course have no right to
cross-examine you like this.
BELINDA. Oh, do go on, I love it. (With childish excitement.)
I've got my question ready.
TREMAYNE (smiling). I think perhaps it _is_ your turn.
BELINDA (eagerly). Is it really? (He nods.) Well then--_who_ is Mr.
Robinson?
TREMAYNE (alarmed). What?
BELINDA. I think it's a fair question. I met you three days ago and
you told me you were staying at Mariton. Mariton. You can say it
all right now, can't you?
TREMAYNE. I think so.
BELINDA (coaxingly). Just say it.
TREMAYNE. Mariton.
BELINDA (clapping her hands). Lovely! I don't think any of the
villagers do it as well as that.
TREMAYNE. Well?
BELINDA. Well, that was three days ago. You came the next day to
see the garden, and you came the day after to see the garden, and
you've come this morning--to see the garden; and you're coming to
dinner to-night, and it's so lovely, we shall simply have to go
into the garden afterwards.
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