DEVENISH. Oh, nothing. It just said, "Mr. Baxter's statistics are
extremely suggestive."

(BAXTER _makes a gesture of annoyance_.)

I haven't read them, so of course I don't know what you've been up to.

BAXTER (_rising, turning away in disgust and crossing up_ L). Pah!

DEVENISH. Poor old Baxter! (_Puts book of poems down on table and
crosses below chair and gathers a daffodil from a large vase down_ R.
_and saying_ "Poor old Baxter!" _ad lib_. BAXTER _moves round back
of hammock and to_ R., _collides with_ DEVENISH _and much annoyed
goes down between table and tree towards chair down_ L.) Baxter--
(_moving to and leaning against tree_ R.)

BAXTER (_turning to_ DEVENISH _crossly_). I wish you wouldn't
keep calling me "Baxter."

DEVENISH. Harold.

(BAXTER _displays annoyance, and continues his walk to_ L.)

BAXTER. It is only by accident--an accident which we both deplore--that
we have met at all, and in any case I am a considerably older man than
yourself. (_Sits_ L.)

DEVENISH. Mr. Baxter--father--(_gesture of annoyance from_ BAXTER)--
I have a proposal to make. We will leave it to this beautiful flower to
decide which of us the lady loves.