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. A piano is
heard off playing "Belinda." The tune is continued until the fall of the
curtain_.) Are you Mrs. Tremayne by any chance?

BELINDA. Yes.

TREMAYNE (_nodding to himself_). Yes.

BELINDA. How did _you_ know?

TREMAYNE (_hastily inventing, moving down_ L. _below the
hammock_). They use you as a sign-post in the village. Past Mrs.
Tremayne'a house and then bear to the left--

BELINDA. And you couldn't go past it?

TREMAYNE. I'm afraid I couldn't. Thank you so much for not minding.
(_Going up to the_ L. _of her_.) Well, I must be getting on, I
have trespassed quite enough.

BELINDA (_regretfully_). And you haven't really seen the garden
yet.