BELINDA (absently). No. (Hurriedly.) I mean, how sweet of you--
only--

DELIA. What!

BELINDA (playing with her rings). Well, one of them, Mr. Baxter--
Harold--(she looks quickly up at DELIA and down again in pretty
affectation, but she is really laughing at herself all the
time) he writes statistical articles for the Reviews--percentages
and all those things. He's just the sort of man, if he knew that I
was your mother, to work it out that I was more than thirty. The
other one, Mr. Devenish--Claude--(she looks up and down as before)
he's rather, rather poetical. He thinks I came straight from
heaven--last week.

DELIA (jumping up). I think _I'd_ better go straight back to Paris.

BELINDA (jumping up and catching her firmly by the arms). You will
do nothing of the sort. You will take off that hat--(she lets go of
the arm and begins to take out the pin) which is a perfect duck,
and I don't know why I didn't say so before--(she puts the hat down
on the table) and let me take a good look at you (she does so), and
kiss you (she does so), and then we'll go to your room and unpack
and have a lovely talk about clothes. And then we'll have tea.

[BETTY comes in.]

BELINDA. And now here's Betty coming in to upset all our delightful
plans, just when we've made them.