BELINDA (_to_ BAXTER). Doesn't he talk nonsense?

BAXTER. He'll grow out of it. I did.

BELINDA (_moving down_ R. _and then to centre towards
hammock_). Oh, I hope not. I love talking nonsense, and I'm ever so
old. (_As they both start forward to protest_.) Now which one of
you will say it first?

DEVENISH. You are as old as the stars and as young as the dawn.

BAXTER. You are ten years younger than I am.

BELINDA. What sweet things to say! I don't know which I like best.

DEVENISH. Where will my lady sit!

BELINDA (_with an exaggerated curtsy_). I will recline in the
hammock, an it please thee, my lord------

(BAXTER _goes to the right of the hammock, saying_ "Allow me."
DEVENISH _moves to the left of the hammock and holds it, takes up a
cushion which_ BAXTER _snatches from him and places in hammock
again_.)

--only it's rather awkward getting in, Mr. Baxter. Perhaps you'd both
better look at the tulips for a moment.

BAXTER. Oh--ah--yes. (_Crosses down_ R., _turns his back to the
hammock and examines the flowers_.)