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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:10 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:10 -0700 |
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diff --git a/13894-h/13894-h.htm b/13894-h/13894-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7daad5 --- /dev/null +++ b/13894-h/13894-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6564 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Great Adventure, by Arnold Bennett</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + + /*page numbers*/ + .newpage {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 60%;} + + /*table of works*/ + .tinytable {font-size:.65em; text-align: left;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + + .smalldiv {text-align:left; margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25%;} + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps; font-weight: bold; } + .centerme {text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13894 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Great Adventure, by Arnold Bennett</h1> +<hr class="full" /> +<div> +<!-- Page 2 --><span class="newpage"><a name="Page_2" +id='Page_2'></a></span> <br /> + <!-- Page 3 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_3" +name='Page_3'></a></span> + +<a id="THE_GREAT_ADVENTURE" name='THE_GREAT_ADVENTURE'></a> +<h1>THE GREAT ADVENTURE</h1> + +<h3>A PLAY OF FANCY IN FOUR ACTS</h3> + +<h2>BY ARNOLD BENNETT</h2> + +<h5>1913</h5> + +<!-- Page 4 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_4" +name='Page_4'>[4]</a></span> <br /> +<!-- Page 5 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_5" +name='Page_5'>[5]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a id="CHARACTERS" name='CHARACTERS'></a> +<h2>CHARACTERS</h2> + +<div class="centerme"> +<table frame="void" cellspacing="0" rules="groups" +border="1" cellpadding="5" summary="Characters"> +<colgroup> +<col width="166" /> +<col width="249" /></colgroup> + +<tbody> +<tr> +<td align="left">ILAM CARVE</td> +<td align="left"><i>An illustrious Painter</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">ALBERT SHAWN</td> +<td align="left"><i>Ilam's Valet</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">DR. PASCOE</td> +<td align="left"><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">EDWARD HORNING</td> +<td align="left"><i>Doctor's Assistant</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">CYRUS CARVE</td> +<td align="left"><i>Ilam's Cousin, a City Auctioneer</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">FATHER LOOE</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Catholic Priest</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">PETER HORNING</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Journalist</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">EBAG</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Picture Dealer</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">JOHN SHAWN</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Curate</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">JAMES SHAWN</td> +<td align="left"><i>His Brother, a Curate</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">LORD LEONARD ALCAR</td> +<td align="left"><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">TEXEL</td> +<td align="left"><i>An American Millionaire</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">A WAITER</td> +<td align="left"><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">A PAGE</td> +<td align="left"><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">A SERVANT</td> +<td align="left"><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">JANET CANNOT</td> +<td align="left"><i>A Widow</i></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">MRS. ALBERT SHAWN</td> +<td align="left"><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">HONORIA LOOE</td> +<td align="left"><i>Sister of Father Looe</i></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> +</div> + +<!-- Page 6 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_6" +name='Page_6'>[6]</a></span><br /><!-- Page 7 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_7" name='Page_7'>[7]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a id="SCENES" name='SCENES'></a> +<h2>SCENES</h2> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<h5>ACT I</h5> + +<a href="#ACT_I">ROOM IN ILAM CARVE'S HOUSE, 126 REDCLIFFE +GARDENS</a> + +<h5>ACT II</h5> + +<a href="#ACT_II">PRIVATE ROOM AT THE GRAND BABYLON HOTEL</a> + +<h5>ACT III</h5> + +<a href="#ACT_III">JANET'S SITTING-ROOM AT WERTER ROAD, PUTNEY</a> + +<h5>ACT IV</h5> + +<a href="#ACT_IV">LORD LEONARD ALCAR'S STUDY, GROSVENOR +GARDENS</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<p><b>SPECIAL NOTE.—</b><i>Each Act is divided into two +scenes, separated by a passage of time more or less short. The +passage of time is indicated by darkening the stage for a few +moments. No change of scenery is involved.</i></p> +</div> + +<!-- Page 8 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_8" +name='Page_8'>[8]</a></span><br /><!-- Page 9 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_9" name='Page_9'>[9]</a></span> <br /> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<div class="smalldiv"> +<h4>NOTE</h4> + +<br /> + + +<p>The play was produced for the first time in London at the +Kingsway Theatre, by Granville Barker, on Tuesday, March 25th, +1913.</p> +</div> + +<!-- Page 10 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_10" +name='Page_10'>[10]</a></span><br /><!-- Page 11 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_11" name='Page_11'>[11]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<br /> + + +<h1>THE GREAT ADVENTURE</h1> + +<a id="ACT_I" name="ACT_I"></a> +<h2>ACT I</h2> + +<h3>SCENE I</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><i>Front room on ground floor at 126 Redcliffe Gardens. An +apartment furnished richly but in an old-fashioned way. Fine +pictures. Large furniture. Sofa near centre. General air of neglect +and dustiness. Carpet half-laid. Trunks and bags lying about in +corners, some opened. Men's wearing apparel exposed. +Mantelpiece</i>, R., <i>in disorder. At back double doors (ajar) +leading to another room. Door</i>, L., <i>leading to hall and front +door.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>Evening in +August.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Albert Shawn</span> <i>is reclining on +the sofa, fully dressed, but obviously ill: an overcoat has been +drawn over his legs. A conspicuous object is a magnificent light +purple dressing-gown thrown across a chair.</i></p> + +<p><i>Door bangs off. Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Ilam +Carve</span> <i>in his shirt sleeves, hurriedly.</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>feebly tries to get up.</i></p> + +<!-- Page 12 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_12" +name='Page_12'>[12]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Now, don't move. Remember +you're a sick man, and forget you're a servant.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>shivers</i>. <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, <i>about to put on his +dressing-gown, changes his mind, and wraps it round</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>as well as he can</i>. <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>then puts on an oldish +coat</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. (<i>Feebly</i>.) You've +been very quick, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I found a red lamp only +three doors off. He'll be along in half a minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. Did you explain what it +was, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Genially</i>.) How +could I explain what it was, you fool, when I don't know? I simply +asked to see the doctor, and I told him there was a fellow-creature +suffering at No. 126, and would he come at once. "126?" he said, +"126 has been shut up for years."</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. (<i>Trying to smile</i>.) +What did you say, sir?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I said (<i>articulating +with clearness</i>) a hundred and twenty-six—and ran off. +Then he yelled out after me that he'd come instantly.... I say, +Shawn, we're discovered. I could tell that from his sudden change +of tone. I bet the entire street knows that the celebrated Me has +arrived at last. I feel like a criminal already, dashed if I don't! +I wish <!-- Page 13 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_13" +name='Page_13'>[13]</a></span>we'd gone to a hotel now. (<i>Walks +about.</i>) I say, did you make up the bed?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. I was just doing it, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But what about sheets and +so on?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. I bought some this +morning, ready hemmed, sir—with those and the travelling +rug——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, don't you think you +could work your passage out to the bed? With my help?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. Me in your bed, sir!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Genially +bullying.</i>) Keep on in that tone—and I'll give you the +sack on the spot. Now then. Try—before the doctor comes. +(<i>Bell rings.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. The bell, sir—excuse +me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Confound——</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>coughs and puts a +handkerchief to his mouth.</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>returns immediately with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Dr. +Pascoe</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Glancing round +quickly.</i>) This the patient? (<i>Goes to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, <i>and looks at him. Then, taking a +clinical thermometer from his pocket and wiping it; with marked +respect.</i>) Allow me to put this under your tongue for half a +minute. (<i>Having done so, he takes</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn's</span> <i>wrist and, looking at his +watch, counts the patient's pulse. Then turning to</i> +<!-- Page 14 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_14" +name='Page_14'>[14]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, +<i>in a low curt voiced</i>) When did this begin?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Just now. That is, he only +began to complain about six o'clock. We arrived in London this +morning from Madrid.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Reading +thermometer.</i>) Temperature 104-1/2. Pulse is 140—and weak. +I must have some boiling water.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>At a loss.</i>) What +for?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. What for? For a +poultice.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Helplessly.</i>) But +there isn't any ... we've nothing except this spirit-lamp. +(<i>Pointing to lamp on table.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. No women in the +house?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>With humour that the +doctor declines to see.</i>) Not one.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Controlling his +exasperation.</i>) Never mind. I'll run round to the surgery and +get my hypodermic. (<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, +<i>reassuringly and deferentially.</i>) I shall be back at once, +Mr. Carve. (<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, <i>near +door.</i>) Keep your master well covered up—I suppose you can +do that?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Shawn, my poor fellow, he +takes you for the illustrious Ilam Carve. This is what comes of me +rushing out in shirt sleeves. (<i>Gesture of despair.</i>) I can't +explain it to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. But——</p> + +<!-- Page 15 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_15" +name='Page_15'>[15]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's all right. You'll be +infinitely better looked after, you know, and I shall be saved from +their infernal curiosity.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>. It's only this, sir. I was +half-expecting a young lady to-night, sir (<i>very feebly</i>). At +least, I believe she's young.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Shawn, I've always +suspected you were a bad lot. Now I know. I also know why you were +so devilish anxious to put me to bed early. What am I to say to +this young lady on your behalf?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>worse, too ill to +answer. Pause. Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Dr. +Pascoe</span>, <i>very rapidly, with a large tumbler half-full of +hot liquid</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. You may say I've been +quick. (<i>As he bends down to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, <i>addressing</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Get me a wine glass of clean cold +water. (<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.) Now, +please. I want you to drink a little brandy and water. (<span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>makes no response</i>.) By Jove! +(<i>The doctor pours some of the brandy and water down</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn's</span> <i>throat</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Who has been wandering +about vaguely</i>.) I don't think we've got a wine glass. There's a +cup, but I suppose that isn't medical enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Taking a syringe from +his pocket and <!-- Page 16 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_16" name='Page_16'>[16]</a></span>unscrewing it.</i>) Pour +some water in it. (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>obeys.</i>) Now, hold it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Indicating +syringe.</i>) What is this device? <span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. This device? I'm going to get some +strychnine into him by injection. Steady with that cup, now!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Pascoe drops a tablet into the syringe and screws it up +again, draws a little water up into the syringe and shakes the +syringe. Then he goes to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> +<i>to make the injection, on the top side of the patient's +forearm.</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>still holds +the cup out mechanically.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. I've done with that +cup.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Putting the cup +down.</i>) Might I ask what's the matter with him?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Pneumonia is the +matter.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Noise of some one in the hall.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Startled.</i>) Surely +that's some one in the hall.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Keep perfectly calm, my +man. It's my assistant. I left the door open on purpose for him. +He's got the poultice and things. (<i>In a loud voice as he +finishes the injection.</i>) Come along, come along there. This +way.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Edward Horning</span> +<i>with poultice, lint, bandages, etc.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Found the +antiphlogistine?<!-- Page 17 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_17" name='Page_17'>[17]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Edward</span>. Yes. (<i>He looks at +patient, and exchanges a glance with</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Where's the bedroom?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. There's one there. +(<i>Pointing to double doors.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Horning</span>.) We'll get him into bed now. +(<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Bed ready?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. I—I think he +was just making it up.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Startled.</i>) Does +he make up his own bed?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Perceiving the +mistake, but resuming his calm.</i>) Always.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Controlling his +astonishment; looking through double doors and opening them wider. +To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>.) Yes, this will do. +Put those things down here a minute while we lift him.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Horning</span> <i>then carry the inanimate form +of</i> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>into the room +behind, while</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>hovers +about uselessly.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Can I do anything?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Indicating a chair +furthest away from the double doors.</i>) You see that chair?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I see it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Go and sit on it.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> <i>and</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>, <i>back, closing double +door's.</i>) <!-- Page 18 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_18" +name='Page_18'>[18]</a></span> (<i>After walking about</i>, <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>sits down on another chair. A +bell rings twice. He pays no attention. Then enter</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet Cannot</span>, L. <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>jumps up, but is inarticulate, +though very favourably</i> <i>interested</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Smiling +sympathetically</i>.) I rang twice.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. The bell must be out of +order.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I couldn't be sure, but I +don't think it's the bell that's out of order.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh! You think I'm out of +order.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No. I was thinking that +you'd only just come into the house—all you famous +folk—and you hadn't quite got it straight yet—as it +were. (<i>Looking vaguely at room</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. All we famous folk?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well—I don't know +myself about that sort of thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What sort of thing?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Picture-painting, isn't +it? I mean real pictures done by hand, coloured——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Ah—yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>After a slight +pause</i>.) It struck me all of a sudden, while I was waiting at +the door, that it might have been left open on purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. The front door? On +purpose? What for?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh—for some one +particular to walk in without any fuss. So in I stepped.</p> + +<!-- Page 19 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_19" +name='Page_19'>[19]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You're the young lady that +Mr. Shawn's expecting——(<i>Going towards +passage</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stopping him</i>.) +It's shut now. You don't want <i>everybody</i> walking in, do +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Looking at</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>with pleasure</i>.) So you're the +young lady—Mrs.—Miss——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Ignoring his +question</i>.) Was it a message you had for me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, no. Not a message.... +But—the fact is, we're rather upset here for the moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes. Illness.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Now, if it isn't an +indiscreet question, how <i>did</i> you know that there was +illness?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I was standing looking at +this house and wondering whether I shouldn't do better to go right +back home there and then. But "No," I said, "I've begun, and I'll +go through with it."—Well, I was standing there when what +should I see but a parlour maid pop up from the area steps next +door, and she says to me over the railings, "The doctor's just +been." Just like that, excited. So I said, "Thank you, miss." I +hope it's nothing serious?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Pneumonia.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Pneumonia. What a +mercy!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Mercy?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. If you look at it sensibly +it's about <!-- Page 20 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_20" +name='Page_20'>[20]</a></span>the best illness anybody could have +in hot weather like this. You've got to keep them warm. The weather +does it for you. If it was typhoid now, and you'd got to keep them +cool—that <i>would</i> be awkward. Not but it passes me how +anybody can catch pneumonia in August.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Coming over from the +Continent.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh! the Continent. It's +not Mr. Shawn that's ill?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Hesitating</i>.) Mr. +Shawn? Oh no, no! It's Ilam Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Half whispering. +Awed</i>.) Oh, <i>him</i>! Poor thing. And nobody but men in the +house.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And who told you +<i>that</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well! (<i>waves her hand +to indicate the state of the room, smiling indulgently</i>) I +always feel sorry for gentlemen when they have to manage for +themselves, even if they're well and hearty. But when it comes to +illness—I can't bear to think about it. Still, everybody has +their own notions of comfort. And I've no doubt he'll very soon be +better.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You think he will?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Blandly cheerful</i>.) +As a general rule, you may say that people do get better. That's my +experience. Of course sometimes they take a longish time. And now +and then one dies—else what use would cemeteries be? +<!-- Page 21 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_21" +name='Page_21'>[21]</a></span>But as a general rule they're soon +over it. Now am I going to see Mr. Shawn, or shall +I——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, if you <i>could</i> +call again——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You say you hadn't a +message?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Not precisely a message. +But if you could call again——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. When?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Rather eagerly</i>.) +Any time. Any time. Soon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Night after to-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why not morning?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Perhaps morning is safer. +Thank you. Very well, then. Day after to-morrow.... I suppose Mr. +Shawn has a rare fine situation here?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Shrugging his +shoulders</i>.) Nothing to complain of, if you ask me.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>offers her hand quite +simply. The double doors open</i>, <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>looks alarmed</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Thank you very much. I +think I can open the front door myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I say—you won't +forget?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, what do <i>you</i> +think?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i>, L.)</p> +</div> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Dr. Pascoe</span> +<i>through double doors</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>At double doors, +to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Horning</span> <i>invisible +behind</i>.) Then there's no reason why the nurse at Edith Grove +shouldn't come along here.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. (<i>Off</i>.) Yes. +She'll be free in an hour.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 22 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_22" +name='Page_22'>[22]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. All right. I'll look in there.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. (<i>Nervous.</i>) What +am I to do if his respiration——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Interrupting.</i>) +Don't worry. I'm not gone yet. I must just clean up my hypodermic. +Shut those doors.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Horning</span> <i>obeys.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What's this about a +nurse?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Busy with syringe, +water, and syringe-case.</i>) I'm sending one in. +(<i>Ironically.</i>) Do you see any objection?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. On the contrary, I should +like him to be treated with every care. He's invaluable to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Staggered.</i>) +Invaluable to <i>you</i>! Of course in my line of business I get +used to meeting odd people——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Recovering from his +mistake.</i>) But you think I carry oddness rather far?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. The idea did pass through +my mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Nervousness—nothing +but nervousness. I'm very nervous. And then—you know the +saying—like master, like man.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Indicating back room +with a gesture; in a slightly more confidential tone as</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve's</span> <i>personal attractiveness gains +on him.</i>) Mr. Carve odd?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, very. Always was. Ever +since I've known him. You remember his first picture at the +Academy?</p> + +<p><!-- Page 23 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_23" +name='Page_23'>[23]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. No, not exactly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Either you remember it +exactly or you don't remember it at all. Life-size picture of a +policeman blowing his whistle.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Yes; it must have been +odd, that must.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Not a bit. The oddness of +the fellow——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. What 'fellow'—your +governor?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Nods.</i>) His oddness +came out in this way—although the thing had really a great +success, from that day to this he's never painted another life-size +picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. I don't see anything very +odd there——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Don't you? Well, perhaps +you don't go in for art much. If you did, you'd know that the usual +and correct thing for a painter who has made a great success with a +life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle, is to keep on +doing life-size pictures of a policeman blowing his whistle for +ever and ever, so that the public can always count on getting from +him a life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. I observe you are one of +those comic valets. Nervousness again, no doubt.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Smiling and +continuing.</i>) Seeing the way he invariably flouted the public, +it's always been a mystery to me how he managed to make a name, to +say nothing of money.</p> + +<!-- Page 24 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_24" +name='Page_24'>[24]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Money! He must make pots. +You say I don't go in for art much, but I always read the big sales +at Christie's. Why, wasn't it that policeman picture that Lord +Leonard Alcar bought for 2000 guineas last year?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, not Alcar. I think the +bobby was last bought by Texel.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Texel? Who's Texel?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Collector—United +States—one of their kings, I'm told.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Oh, him! Controls all the +ink in the United States.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Really! That's what I +should call influence. No. It was the "Pelicans feeding their +Young" that Alcar bought. Four thousand. You're getting mixed +up.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Perhaps I am. I know I'm +constantly seeing Mr. Carve's name in connection with Lord Leonard +Alcar's. It's a nice question which is the best known of the +two.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Then the—governor +really is famous in England? You see we never come to England.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Famous—I should +think he was. Aren't they always saying he's the finest colourist +since Titian? And look at his prices!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. I've looked at his +prices. Titian's prices are higher, but Titian isn't what you'd +call famous with the general public, is he? <!-- Page 25 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_25" name='Page_25'>[25]</a></span>What +I want to know is—is the governor famous among the general +public?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. About how famous should +you say he is?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Hesitating.</i>) +Well—(<i>abruptly</i>) that's a silly question.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, it isn't. Is he as +famous as—er—Harry Lauder?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Shakes his head.</i>) +You mustn't go to extremes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Is he as famous as Harry +Vardon?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Never heard of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I only see these names in +the papers. Is he as famous as Bernard Shaw?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Yes, I should say he +was.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, well that's not so +bad. Better than I thought! It's so difficult to judge where one +is—er—personally concerned. Especially if you're never +on the spot.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. So it's true Mr. Carve +never comes to England?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why should he come to +England? He isn't a portrait painter. It's true he owns this house, +but surely that isn't sufficient excuse for living in a place like +England?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Of course, if you look at +it like that, there's no particular attractiveness in England that +I've ever seen. But that answer wouldn't satisfy Redcliffe Gardens. +Redcliffe Gardens <!-- Page 26 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_26" name='Page_26'>[26]</a></span>is persuaded that there +must be a special reason.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, there is.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Interested, in spite +of himself.</i>) Indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Confidentially.</i>) +Have a cigarette? (<i>Offering case.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Staggered anew, but +accepting.</i>) That's a swagger case.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh! (<i>Calmly.</i>) He +gave it me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, you see we're more +like brothers—been together so long. He gives me his best +suits too. Look at this waistcoat. (<i>Motions the hypnotised</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> <i>to take a chair. They +light their cigarettes.</i>)</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Somewhat +impatient.</i>) He's not worse already?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. Where's that brandy and +water?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Be careful. He's had +about enough of that.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. Seeing I've had no +dinner yet—I thought it might suit me. (<i>Exit with +tumbler.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>To Carve with renewed +eagerness.</i>) So there is a special reason why you keep out of +England.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes—shyness.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 27 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_27" +name='Page_27'>[27]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. How—shyness?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Just simple shyness. +Shyness is a disease with the governor, a perfect disease.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. But everyone's shy. The +more experience I get the more convinced I am that we're all shy. +Why, you were shy when you came to fetch me!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Did you notice it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Of course. And I was shy +when I came in here. I was thinking to myself, "Now I'm going to +see the great Ilam Carve actually in the flesh," and I was shy. +You'd think my profession would have cured me of being shy, but not +a bit. Nervous disease, of course! Ought to be treated as such. +Almost universal. Besides, even if he is shy, your +governor—even if he's a hundredfold shy, that's no reason for +keeping out of England. Shyness is not one of those diseases you +can cure by change of climate.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Pardon me. My esteemed +employer's shyness is a special shyness. He's only shy when he has +to play the celebrity. So long as people take him for no one in +particular he's quite all right. For instance, he's never shy with +me. But instantly people approach him as the celebrity, instantly +he sees in the eye of the beholder any consciousness of being in +the presence of a toff—then he gets desperately shy, and his +one desire is <!-- Page 28 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_28" +name='Page_28'>[28]</a></span>to be alone at sea or to be buried +somewhere deep in the bosom of the earth. (<span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> <i>laughs.</i>) What are you +laughing at? (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>also +laughs.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Go on, go on. I'm +enjoying it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, but seriously! It's +true what I tell you. It amounts almost to a tragedy in the +brilliant career of my esteemed. You see now that England would be +impossible for him as a residence. You see, don't you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Quite.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why, even on the +Continent, in the big towns and the big hotels, we often travel +incognito for safety. It's only in the country districts that he +goes about under his own name.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. So that he's really got +no friends?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. None, except a few Italian +and Spanish peasants—and me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Well, well! It's an +absolute mania then, this shyness.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Slightly hurt.</i>) +Oh, not so bad as that! And then it's only fair to say he has his +moments of great daring—you may say rashness.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. All timid people are like +that.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Are they? (<i>Musing.</i>) +We're here now owing to one of his moments of rashness.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Indeed!</p> + +<!-- Page 29 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_29" +name='Page_29'>[29]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. We met an English +lady in a village in Andalusia, and—well, of course, I can't +tell you everything—but she flirted with him and he flirted +with her.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Under his own name?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. And then he proposed +to her. I knew all along it was a blunder.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Ironic.</i>) Did +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. She belonged to the +aristocracy, and she was one of those amateur painters that wander +about the Continent by themselves—you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. And did she accept?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh yes. They got as far as +Madrid together, and then all of a sudden my esteemed saw that he +had made a mistake.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. And what then?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. We fled the country. We +hooked it. The idea of coming to London struck him—just the +caprice of a man who's lost his head—and here we are.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>After a pause.</i>) +He doesn't seem to me from the look of him to be a man +who'd—shall we say?—strictly avoided women.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Startled, with a +gesture towards back.</i>) Him?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> <i>nods.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p>Really! Confound him! Now I've always <!-- Page 30 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_30" +name='Page_30'>[30]</a></span>suspected that; though he manages to +keep his goings-on devilish quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Rising.</i>) It +occurs to me, my friend, that I'm listening to too much. But you're +so persuasive.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's such a pleasure to +talk freely—for once in a way.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Freely—is the +word.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh! He won't mind!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>In a peculiar +tone.</i>) It's quite possible!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. (<i>To Carve.</i>) I +say, it's just occurred to me, Mr. Carve hasn't been digging or +gardening or anything, I suppose, and then taken cold after?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Digging? Oh no. He must +have got a bad chill on the steamer. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. Nothing. Only his hands +and finger-nails are so rough.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After thinking.</i>) +Oh, I see! All artists are like that. Messing about with paints and +acids and things. Look at my hands.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. But are you an artist +too?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Recovering himself, +calmly.</i>) No, no.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>To Horning.</i>) +How's he going on?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. (<i>Shrugs his +shoulders.</i>) I'm sure the base of both lungs is practically +solid.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 31 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_31" +name='Page_31'>[31]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Well, we can't do more than we +have done, my boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Horning</span>. He'll never pull +through.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Calmly.</i>) I should +certainly be surprised if he did.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Astounded.</i>) +But—but——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. But what?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You don't mean to +say—Why, he's a strong healthy man!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Precisely. Not very +unusual for your strong healthy man to die of pneumonia in +twenty-four hours. You ought to know, at your age, that it's a +highly dangerous thing to be strong and healthy. (<i>Turning +away.</i>) I'll have another look at him before I go.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Extremely +perturbed.</i>) But this is ridiculous. I simply don't know what I +shall do without that man.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p><i>The stage is darkened for a few moments to indicate passage +of time.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>SCENE 2</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>The next morning +but one.</i></p> + +<p><i>Slightly less disorder in the room.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> <i>are together, the latter ready +to leave.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Will there have to be an +inquest?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Inquest? Of course +not.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 32 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_32" +name='Page_32'>[32]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +It's some relief to know that. I couldn't have faced a coroner.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Staring at him.</i>) +Perfectly ordinary case.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That's what you call +perfectly ordinary, is it? A man is quite well on Tuesday +afternoon, and dead at 4 a.m. on Thursday morning. (<i>Looking at +his watch.</i>) My watch has stopped.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>With fierce +sarcasm.</i>) One of those cheap German watches, I suppose, that +stop when you don't wind them up! It's a singular thing that when +people stay up all night they take it for granted their watches are +just as excited as they are. Look here, you'll be collapsing soon. +When did you have anything to eat last?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Almost half an hour ago. +Two sausages that were sent in yesterday for the nurse.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. She's gone?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Well, take my advice. Try +to get some sleep now. You've had no reply from the +relatives—the auctioneer cousin—what's his Christian +name—Cyrus?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, I—I didn't +telegraph—I forgot——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Well, upon my soul! I +specially reminded you yesterday afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I didn't know the +address.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 33 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_33" +name='Page_33'>[33]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Ever heard of the London +Directory? You'd better run out and wire instantly. You don't seem +to realize that the death of a man like Ilam Carve will make +something of a stir in the world. And you may depend on it that +whether they'd quarrelled or not, Cyrus Carve will want to know why +he wasn't informed of the illness at once. You've let yourself in +for a fine row, and well you deserve it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After a few +paces.</i>) See here, doctor. I'm afraid there's been some mistake. +(<i>Facing him nervously.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. What?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +I—I——</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Bell rings.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Firmly.</i>) Listen +to me, my man. There's been no sort of mistake. Everything has been +done that could be done. Don't you get ideas into your head. Lie +down and rest. You're done up, and if you aren't careful you'll be +ill. I'll communicate with Cyrus Carve. I can telephone, and while +I'm about it I'll ring up the registrar too—he'll probably +send a clerk round.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Registrar?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Registrar of deaths. +There'll be all kinds of things to attend to. (<i>Moving to go +out.</i>)</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Bell rings again.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<!-- Page 34 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_34" +name='Page_34'>[34]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>As if dazed.</i>) Is +that the front door bell?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>Drily.</i>) Quite +possibly! I'll open it.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, <i>alone, makes a gesture +of despair. Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span> +<i>with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. (<i>As they enter.</i>) +Yes, very sudden, very sudden. There were three of us—a +nurse, my assistant, and myself. This is Mr. Shawn, the deceased's +valet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Morning. (<i>Looks round +at disorder of room contemptuously.</i>) Pigstye!... My name is +Cyrus Carve. I'm your late master's cousin and his only relative. +You've possibly never heard of me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Curtly.</i>) Oh yes, I +have! You got up a great quarrel when you were aged twelve, you and +he.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Your manner isn't very +respectful, my friend. However you may have treated my cousin, be +good enough to remember you're not <i>my</i> valet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. How did you get to know +about it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. I suppose he forbade you +to send for me, eh? (<i>Pause.</i>) Eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Jumping at this +suggestion.</i>) Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. So that was it.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 35 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_35" +name='Page_35'>[35]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. +(<i>Ignoring</i> <span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>.) Ha! Well, +since you're so curious, I saw it a quarter of an hour ago in a +special edition of a halfpenny rag; I was on my way to the office. +(<i>Showing paper.</i>) Here you are! <i>The Evening Courier.</i> +Quite a full account of the illness. You couldn't send for me, but +you could chatter to some journalist.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I've never spoken to a +journalist in my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Then +how——?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. It's probably my +assistant. His brother is something rather important on the +<i>Courier</i>, and he may have telephoned to him. It's a big item +of news, you know, Mr. Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Drily.</i>) I imagine +so. Where is the body?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Upstairs. (<i>Moving +towards door.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Thanks. I will go +alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Large room at +back—first floor.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>, L.)</p> +</div> + +<p>I think I'd prefer to leave you to yourselves now. Of course, +Mr. Carve will do all that's necessary. You might give him my card, +and tell him I'm at his service as regards signing the death +certificate and so on. (<i>Handing card.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Taking card +perfunctorily.</i>) Very well. Then you're going? +<!-- Page 36 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_36" +name='Page_36'>[36]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. Yes. (<i>Moves away and then +suddenly puts out his hand, which</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>takes.</i>) Want a word of +advice?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I—I +ought——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>. If I were you I should +try to get something better than valeting. It's not your line. You +may have suited Ilam Carve, but you'd never suit an ordinary +employer. You aren't a fool—not by any means.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>shrugs his +shoulders.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Pascoe</span>, L. <i>Door +shuts off.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> +<i>immediately after the door shuts.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>To himself.</i>) Now +for it! (<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>). Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Well what?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Recognize your cousin?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Of course a man of +forty-five isn't like a boy of twelve, but I think I may say I +should have recognized him anywhere.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Taken aback.</i>) +Should you indeed. (<i>A pause.</i>) And so you're Cyrus, the +little boy that kicked and tried to bite in that historic affray of +thirty years ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Look here, I fancy you and +I had better come to an understanding at once. What salary did my +cousin pay you for your remarkable services?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What salary?</p> + +<!-- Page 37 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_37" +name='Page_37'>[37]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. What salary?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Eighty pounds a year.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. When were you last +paid?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +I—I——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. When were you last +paid?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. The day before +yesterday.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Taking a note and gold +from his pocket-book and pocket.</i>) Here's seven pounds—a +month's wages in lieu of notice. It's rather more than a month's +wages, but I can't do sums in my head just now. (<i>Holding out +money.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But +listen——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Commandingly.</i>) +Take it.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>obeys.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p>Pack up and be out of this house within an hour.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. I shall not argue.... Did +your master keep his private papers and so on in England or +somewhere on the Continent—what bank?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What bank? He didn't keep +them in any bank.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Where did he keep them +then?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. He kept them himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. What—travelling?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>With a "tut-tut" noise +to indicate the <!-- Page 38 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_38" name='Page_38'>[38]</a></span>business man's mild +scorn of the artist's method's.</i>) Whose is this luggage?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. All of it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That is——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Come now, is it his or is +it yours? Now be careful.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. His. (<i>Angrily, as</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> <i>roughly handles a box.</i>) +Now then, mind what you're about! Those are etching things.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. I shall mind what I'm +about. And what's this?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That's a typewriter.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. I always thought artists +couldn't stand typewriting machines.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That was—his +servant's.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Yours, you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, I mean mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Then why don't you say so? +What do you want a typewriter for?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Savagely.</i>) What +the devil has that got to do with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Looking up calmly from +the examination of a dispatch box.</i>) If you can't keep a civil +tongue in your head I'll pitch you down the front-door steps and +your things after you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I've got something to tell +you——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Silence, and answer my +questions! Are his papers in this dispatch box?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 39 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_39" +name='Page_39'>[39]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. +Where are his keys?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Slowly drawing bunch +of keys from his pocket.</i>) Here.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Taking them.</i>) So +you keep his keys?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Opening dispatch +box.</i>) Wear his clothes too, I should say!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>sits down negligently +and smiles.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>As he is examining +papers in box.</i>) What are you laughing at?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'm not laughing. I'm +smiling. (<i>Rising and looking curiously at box.</i>) There's +nothing there except lists of securities and pictures and a few +oddments—passports and so on.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. There appears to be some +money. I'm glad you've left that. Quite a lot, in fact. (<i>Showing +notes.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Here, steady! There's +twelve thousand francs there besides some English notes. That's +mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Yours, eh? He was taking +care of it for you, no doubt?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Hesitating.</i>) +Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. When you can furnish me +with his receipt for the deposit, my man, it shall be handed to +you. Till then it forms part of the estate. (<i>Looking at a packet +of letters.</i>) "Alice Rowfant."</p> + +<!-- Page 40 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_40" +name='Page_40'>[40]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And those letters are mine +too.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Reading.</i>) "My +dearest boy"—Were you Lady Alice Rowfant's dearest boy? +Anyhow, we'll burn them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. So long as you burn them I +don't mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Indeed! (<i>Continues to +examine papers, cheque foils, etc. Then opens a document.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh! Is <i>that</i> still +there? I thought it was destroyed.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Do you know what it +is?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. It's a will that was +made in Venice I don't know how long ago—just after your aunt +died and you had that appalling and final shindy by correspondence +about the lease of this house. Everything is left for the +establishment of an International Gallery of Painting and Sculpture +in London, and you're the sole executor, and you get a legacy of +five pounds for your trouble.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Yes.... So I see. No doubt +my cousin imagined it would annoy me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. He did.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. He told you so?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. He said it would be one in +the eye for you—and he wondered whether you'd decline the +executorship.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Well, my man, I may tell +you at once that I shall not renounce probate. I never expected a +penny from my cousin. I always assumed he'd do something silly with +his <!-- Page 41 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_41" +name='Page_41'>[41]</a></span>money, and I'm relieved to find it's +no worse. In fact, the idea of a great public institution in London +being associated with my family is rather pleasant.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But he meant to destroy +that will long since.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>As he cons the +will.</i>) How do you know? Has he made a later will?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Well, then! Besides, I +fail to see why you should be so anxious to have it destroyed. You +come into eighty pounds a year under it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I was forgetting that.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Reading.</i>) "I +bequeath to my servant, Albert Shawn, who I am convinced is a +thorough rascal, but who is an unrivalled valet, courier, and +factotum, the sum of eighty pounds a year for life, payable +quarterly in advance, provided he is in my service at the time of +my death."</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>laughs +shortly.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p>You don't want to lose that, do you? Of course, if the term +"thorough rascal" is offensive to you, you can always decline the +money. (<i>Folds up will and puts it in his pocket</i>—<span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>walks about.</i>) Now where's the +doctor?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. He's left his card. There +it is.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 42 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_42" +name='Page_42'>[42]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. +He might have waited.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. But he didn't. His +house is only three doors off.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Looking at his +watch.</i>) I'll go in and see him about the certificate. Now you +haven't begun to put your things together, and you've only got a +bit over half an hour. In less than that time I shall be back. I +shall want to look through your luggage before you leave.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Lightly.</i>) Shall +you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. By the way, you have a +latchkey? (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>nods.</i>) Give +it me, please.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>surrenders +latchkey.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> <i>turns to go—As he +is disappearing through the door</i>, L., <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>starts forward.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I say.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. What now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Subsiding weakly.</i>) +Nothing.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. <i>Sound of +front door opening and of voices in hall.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Then re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> +<i>with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet Cannot</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. <i>This</i> is Mr. Albert +Shawn. Shawn, a friend of yours.</p> + +<!-- Page 43 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_43" +name='Page_43'>[43]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> L.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Pleased.</i>) Oh! +You!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Good-morning. D'you know, +I had a suspicion the other night that you must be Mr. Shawn?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Had you? Well, will you +sit down—er—I say (<i>with a humorous mysterious +air</i>). What do <i>you</i> think of that chap? (<i>Pointing in +direction of hall.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Who is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's Mr. Cyrus Carve. The +great West End auctioneer.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Sound of front-door shutting rather too vigorously.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I see no reason why +he should look at me as if I'd insulted him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Did he?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. "Good-morning," I said to +him. "Excuse me, but are you Mr. Albert Shawn?" Because I wasn't +sure, you know. And he <i>looked.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After laughing.</i>) +The man is an ass.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Is he?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Not content with being an +ass merely, he is a pompous and a stupid ass. (<i>Laughs again to +himself.</i>) Now there is something very important that he ought +to know, and he wouldn't let me tell him.</p> + +<!-- Page 44 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_44" +name='Page_44'>[44]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Really?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, very important. But +no. He wouldn't let me tell him. And perhaps if I'd told him he +wouldn't have believed me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. What did he do to stop you +from telling him?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>At a loss, +vaguely.</i>) I don't know—Wouldn't let me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. If you ask me, I should +say the truth is, you didn't want to tell him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Impressed.</i>) Now I +wonder if you're right.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I don't quite see +how anybody can <i>stop</i> anybody from talking. But even if he +did, he can't stop you from writing to him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, I'm hanged if I write +to him!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, well, that's a proof +you <i>didn't</i> want to tell him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Perhaps it is. (<i>After a +burst of quiet laughter.</i>) Pardon me. (<i>Reflective.</i>) I was +only thinking what a terrific lark it will be.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. If he never does get to +know?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. If he never does get to +know. If nobody ever gets to know. (<i>Resolved.</i>) No. I'll keep +my mouth shut.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. As a general rule, it's +the best thing to do.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You advise me to keep my +mouth shut?</p> + +<p><!-- Page 45 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_45" +name='Page_45'>[45]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +Not at all. I simply say, as a general rule it's the best thing to +do. But this is no business of mine, and I'm sure I'm not +inquisitive.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Solemnly.</i>) He +shall go his own way. (<i>Pause.</i>) And +I'll—go—mine.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Calmly +indifferent.</i>) That's settled, then.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Laughs again to +himself, then controls his features.</i>) And that being settled, +the first thing I have to do is to apologize for my behaviour on +Tuesday night.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, not at all. Seeing how +upset you were! And then I'm not sure whether I shouldn't have done +the same thing myself in your place.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Done the same +yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I may be wrong, but +it occurred to me your idea was that you'd like to have a look at +me before giving yourself away, as it were. Of course, I sent you +my photographs, but photographs aren't much better than +gravestones—for being reliable, and some folks are prejudiced +against matrimonial agencies, even when they make use of them. It's +natural. Now I've got no such prejudice. If you want to get married +you want to get married, and there you are. It's no use pretending +you don't. And there's as much chance of being happy through a +matrimonial <!-- Page 46 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_46" +name='Page_46'>[46]</a></span>agency as any other way. At +least—that's what <i>I</i> think.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Collecting his +wits.</i>) Just so.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You may tell me that +people who go to a matrimonial agency stand a chance of getting let +in. Well, people who don't go to a matrimonial agency stand a +chance of getting let in, too. Besides, I shouldn't give a baby a +razor for a birthday present, and I shouldn't advise a young girl +to go to a matrimonial agency. But I'm not a young girl. If it's a +question of the male sex, I may say that I've been there before. +You understand me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Quite.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I think I told you +pretty nearly everything important in my letter. Didn't I?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Let me see +now——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I mean the one I sent to +the office of the <i>Matrimonial News.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Mechanically feeling +in his pockets, pulling out papers and putting them back.</i>) +Where did I put it? Oh, perhaps it's in the pocket of another coat. +(<i>Goes to a coat of</i> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn's</span> +<i>hanging on inner knob of double doors, and empties all the +pockets, bringing the contents, including a newspaper, to the +table.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Picking up an +envelope.</i>) Yes, that's it—I can feel the photograph. You +seem to keep things in the pockets of all your coats.</p> + +<!-- Page 47 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_47" +name='Page_47'>[47]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. If you knew what I've been +through this last day or two——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Soothingly.</i>) Yes, +yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I haven't had a quiet +moment. Now——(<i>Reading letter.</i>) "Dear Sir, in +reply to your advertisement, I write to you with particulars of my +case. I am a widow, aged thirty-two years——"</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And anybody that likes can +see my birth certificate. That's what I call talking.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. My dear lady! +(<i>Continuing to read.</i>) "Thirty-two years. My father was a +jobbing builder, well known in Putney and Wandsworth. My husband +was a rent collector and estate agent. He died four years ago of +appendicitis (<i>hesitating</i>) caught——"</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Caused.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I beg pardon, +"—caused by accidentally swallowing a bristle out of his +tooth-brush, the same being discovered at the operation. I am an +orphan, a widow, and have no children. In consequence I feel very +lonely, and my first experience not being distasteful, indeed the +reverse, I am anxious to try again, provided I can meet with a +sincere helpmeet of good family. I am the owner of the above house, +rated at forty-five pounds a year, in one of the nicest streets in +Putney, and I have private means of some three pounds a week, from +brewery shares bringing in fifteen <!-- Page 48 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_48" name='Page_48'>[48]</a></span>per +cent. I will say nothing about my appearance, but enclose latest +carte-de-visite photograph."</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I had it taken on +purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. "As to my tastes, I will +only say that as a general rule they are quiet. If the above seems +in your line, I shall be obliged if you will write and send me +particulars of yourself, with photographs.—Yours truly, JANET +CANNOT." Well, Mrs. Cannot, your letter is an absolute model.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I suppose you <i>did</i> +get dozens?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well——By the +way, what's this type-written thing in the envelope?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Looking at it.</i>) It +looks like a copy of your answer.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. If it isn't a rude +question, Mr. Shawn, why do you typewrite your letters? It seems +so—what shall I say?—public.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Half to himself.</i>) +So <i>thats</i> the explanation of the typewriter.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Puzzled.</i>) I +suppose it's because you're a private secretary.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Equally puzzled.</i>) +Private secretary! I—shall we just glance through my reply? +(<i>Reads.</i>) "My dear Mrs. Cannot, your letter inspires me with +more confidence than any of the dozens of others I have received." +(<i>They look at each other, smiling.</i>) "<!-- Page 49 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_49" name='Page_49'>[49]</a></span>As +regards myself, I should state at once that I am and have been for +many years private secretary, indeed I may say almost companion, to +the celebrated painter. Mr. Ilam Carve, whose magnificent pictures +you are doubtless familiar with."</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, I'm not.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Really. "We have been +knocking about England together for longer than I care to remember, +and I personally am anxious for a change. Our present existence is +very expensive. I feel the need of a home and the companionship of +just such a woman as yourself. Although a bachelor, I think I am +not unfitted for the domestic hearth. My age is forty." That's a +mistake of the typewriter.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Forty-five it ought to +be.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, honestly, I +shouldn't have thought it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. "My age is forty-five. By +a strange coincidence Mr. Carve has suggested to me that we set out +for England to-morrow. At Dover I will telegraph you with a +rendezvous. In great haste. Till then, my dear Mrs. Cannot, believe +me," etc.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You didn't send a +photograph.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Perhaps I was afraid of +prejudicing you in advance.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 50 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_50" +name='Page_50'>[50]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +(<i>Laughs.</i>) Eh, Mr. Shawn! There's thousands of young +gentlemen alive and kicking in London this minute that would give a +great deal to be only half as good looking as you are. And so +you're a bachelor?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, quite.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Two bachelors, as you say, +knocking about Europe together. (<span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>laughs quietly but heartily to +himself.</i>) By the way, how is Mr. Carve? I hope he's better.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Mr. Carve?...(<i>Suddenly +stops laughing.</i>) Oh! (<i>Lamely, casually.</i>) He's dead!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stocked.</i>) Dead? +When?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Early this morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Rising.</i>) And us +chattering away like this. Why didn't you tell me at once, Mr. +Shawn?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I forgot for the moment. I +wasn't thinking——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Forgot?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Simply and sincerely, +but very upset.</i>) Now, Mrs. Cannot, I assure you I feel that +man's death. I admit I had very little affection for +him—certainly not much respect—but we'd been together a +long time, and his death is a shock to me. Yes, really. But I've +had to think so much about my own case—and then a scene, a +regular scene with Cyrus Carve. And then you coming. The fact +is——</p> + +<p><!-- Page 51 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_51" +name='Page_51'>[51]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +(<i>Sympathetically.</i>) The fact is, you scarcely know what +you're doing, my poor Mr. Shawn. You're on wires, that's what's the +matter with you—hysteria. I know what it is as well as +anybody. You'll excuse me saying so, but you're no ordinary man. +You're one of these highly-strung people and you ought to take care +of yourself. Well, I'll go now, and if it's mutually agreeable we +might perhaps meet again in a month's time—say.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. A month? But what am I to +do with myself for a month? Do you know you're absolutely the only +friend I've got in London—in England. We're never here. I'm +an utter stranger. You can't leave me like that—for a +month—four weeks—four Sundays. I haven't the least idea +what's going to happen to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. The very best thing that +can happen to you is bed. You go to bed and stop there for a couple +of days. There's nothing like it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, but where?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Why, here of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I've got to be out of this +place in half an hour, less. The fact is, Cyrus Carve has been +extremely—er—pert. He's paid me a month's salary and +I'm off at once. In under thirty minutes I shall be on the +streets.</p> + +<!-- Page 52 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_52" +name='Page_52'>[52]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I never liked that man. +Well, then, you must go to some nice respectable +boarding-house.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I don't know any nice +respectable boarding-house.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh! There are thousands +and thousands in London. Look in the <i>Telegraph.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I haven't had a paper +to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Any day will do. They're +in all the papers every day. What's this? (<i>Taking up folded +dirty newspaper and opening it.</i>) Now, let's see. Well, what +about this? "A beautiful private hotel of the highest class. +Luxuriously furnished. Visitors' comfort studied. Finest position +in London. Cuisine a speciality. Suitable for persons of superior +rank. Bathroom. Electric light. Separate tables. No irritating +extras. Single rooms from two and a half guineas. 250 Queen's +Gate." Quite close by! (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>says nothing.</i>) Perhaps that's a bit dear. Here's another. +"<i>Not</i> a boarding-house. A magnificent mansion. Forty bedrooms +by Waring. Superb public saloons by Maple. Parisian chef. Separate +tables. <i>Four</i> bathrooms. Card-rooms. Billiard room. Vast +lounge. Special sanitation. Young, cheerful, musical society. +Bridge (small). Finest position in London. No irritating extras. +Single rooms from two guineas." What about that?</p> + +<!-- Page 53 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_53" +name='Page_53'>[53]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Shakes his head.</i>) +I don't think I should fancy it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I won't say but what two +guineas a week is a lot.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And I was thinking how +cheap it was.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Staring.</i>) Well, of +course, if you've got money to <i>fling</i> about.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Upon my soul I don't know +what money I have got.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. It'll be just as well to +find out before you get into the street.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Let's see. Well, there's +seven pounds (<i>showing it.</i>) and this (<i>pulling silver and +gold from another pocket</i>). Not much is it? Sixteen shillings +and sixpence. It's true I've an annuity of eighty pounds. I was +forgetting that.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Pleased.</i>) Have you +indeed?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. But an annuity isn't +ready cash, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Picking up Shawn's +pocket-book.</i>) And this? This seems rather thick.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I was forgetting that too. +(<i>Opens it and takes out many notes.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. My word! And you'd +forgotten <i>that</i>! You ought to see a doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Counting.</i>) +Twenty-one fives, and ten tens. That makes two hundred and five +pounds. (<i>Half to himself.</i>) I always knew I was a bad +lot—but where <i>did</i> I collar all that +<!-- Page 54 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_54" +name='Page_54'>[54]</a></span>from? (<i>To Janet.</i>) I know what +I shall do! I shall go to the Grand Babylon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. The Grand Babylon Hotel? +But it's the dearest hotel in London.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. In the big towns we always +went to the best hotel. It's cheapest in the end.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You're very persuasive, +but you'll never make me believe you'll save money by staying at +the Grand Babylon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Rising and beginning +to collect things—tries to fold up a pair of trousers.</i>) +Now, Mrs. Cannot, will you do me a favour?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You'll spoil these +trousers.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Will you come and lunch +with me at the Grand Babylon to-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. But I've never been in +such a place in my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Remember. You're my only +friend. Will you come and lunch with me at the Grand Babylon +to-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Timidly.</i>) I should +like to. (<i>Suddenly.</i>) Here, give me those trousers, do! +(<i>She takes hold of one leg</i>, <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>retaining the other.</i>)</p> + +<span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>(<i>Enter</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.)</span><br /> + + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Oh!</p> + +<div class="centerme"><b>CURTAIN</b>.</div> + +<!-- Page 55 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_55" +name='Page_55'>[55]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a id="ACT_II" name='ACT_II'></a> +<h2>ACT II</h2> + +<h3>SCENE I</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><i>Private sitting-room at the Grand Babylon Hotel, Strand. +Luxurious in the hotel manner. Telephone. Door</i>, L., <i>leading +to corridor. Door</i>, R. (<i>up stage), leading to bedroom. +Another door (not used) leading by a passage to bathroom.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>About noon on the +following day.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ilam Carve</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>are talking together.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'm really delighted to +see you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Examining his +features.</i>) But surely you're not feeling very well?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'm not. Perhaps it's +these sleepless nights I've had.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You're shivering.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I was wearing my +dressing-gown. I nearly always do when I'm alone. Do you think +you'd mind if I put it on again.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Do you mean to say you +took it off because of me? (<i>Seizing dressing-gown firmly.</i>) +Mr. Shawn, will you oblige me by <!-- Page 56 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_56" +name='Page_56'>[56]</a></span>getting-into this <i>at</i> once? +(<i>She helps him on with dressing-gown.</i>) What a beauty!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. Cousin Cyrus thought +so too. He didn't want me to bring it away. Still, I beat him on +<i>that</i> point. (<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> +<i>arranges the collar.</i>) Do you know, you do me good.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I should think so. I +suppose when gentlemen live alone they're pretty nearly always +unwell, as it were. If it isn't a cold, it's stomach, I expect. And +truly, I'm not surprised, the way they go on! Now, will you sit +down in that chair and keep your legs covered—August or no +August! If you ask me, it's influenza you're sickening for. +(<i>Sound of distant orchestral.</i>) Music?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Nodding and sitting +down in easy chair.</i>) Well, and what's the news from outside? I +haven't stirred since yesterday noon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Seems to me there's no +news except your Mr. Carve's death.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Really! Is it so much +talked about as all that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. It's on all the +posters—very big. All along Piccadilly and Trafalgar Square +and the Strand the newspaper boys, and the newspaper old men too, +are wearing it like aprons, as it were. I read the <i>Telegraph</i> +myself. There was nearly a page of it in the <i>Telegraph.</i></p> + +<!-- Page 57 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_57" +name='Page_57'>[57]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Staggered.</i>) Nearly +a page of it in the <i>Telegraph</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, besides a leading +article. Haven't you——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I never read obituaries of +artists in the papers.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Neither do I. But I should +have thought <i>you</i> would.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, they make me angry. +Obituaries of archbishops aren't so bad. Newspapers seem to +understand archbishops. But when they begin about artists—you +cannot imagine the astounding nonsense they talk.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Protesting against his +heat.</i>) Now! You're still all on wires. Why should that make you +angry?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What did the +<i>Telegraph</i> say? Did you look at it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh yes. It appears Mr. +Carve was a very eccentric person—avoiding society and so +on.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Resentful.</i>) +Eccentric! There you are! He wasn't eccentric in the least. The +only society he avoided was the society of gaping fools.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I'm just telling you +what it said. Then, let me see—what else did it say? Oh! It +said the sole question was whether Mr. Carve was the greatest +painter since Velasquez—is that how you pronounce +it?—or <!-- Page 58 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_58" +name='Page_58'>[58]</a></span>whether he was the greatest painter +that ever lived.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Interested.</i>) +Really! It said that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Nodding.</i>) You +ought to read it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Upon my soul I think I +must. (<i>Attempts to rise.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Now, please, don't move. +What is it you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I was only going to +telephone and have the daily papers sent up.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Where is the +telephone?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Pointing.</i>) +There.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. So they've put a telephone +in your room?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Telephone in every +room.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Going to +telephone.</i>) Can I telephone for you? I never have telephoned, +and I should like to. How do you do it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Just take that thing off +the hook and talk into it. (<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> +<i>gingerly obeys.</i>) It won't explode.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. What am I to say?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Tell them to send me up +the daily papers at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. All?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. But will they?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Certainly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Into telephone.</i>) +Please will you send up all the daily papers at once.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 59 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_59" +name='Page_59'>[59]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +Thanks very much. Now you can hang it up again.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. So this is the Grand +Babylon Hotel? Well it's a queer place. (<i>Her eyes rove round the +room.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What are you looking +for?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. To speak plainly, I was +looking for the bed. I must say I was rather surprised when the +young man at the desk said I was to go up to your room.... But +really, every thing's so nicely arranged.... I suppose it's one of +those folding beds that turn into bookcases and things?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Laughs.</i>) No. This +is my sitting-room.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Your sitting-room? +(<i>Pointing to door</i>, R.) Then that's the bedroom?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Pointing to another +door.</i>) And what's that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That's one way to my +bathroom. In a big hotel I always take a suite, you know. It's so +much more comfortable.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Isn't it rather +expensive?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. To tell you the truth, I +didn't ask the price.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Knock at door.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Charmingly tart.</i>) +I suppose it's what you call "cheapest in the end."</p> + +<!-- Page 60 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_60" +name='Page_60'>[60]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Come in.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Page</span> <i>with a pile +of papers.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Thanks! Give them to +me.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Page</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I never! It's like +magic.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Now let's just glance at +these chaps. (<i>Unfolding a paper.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Shall I help you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why? Here's black borders +and a heading across two columns! "Death of England's greatest +painter," "Irreparable loss to the world's art," "Our readers will +be shocked——" Are they all like that? (<i>More and more +astonished; takes another paper.</i>) "Sad death of a great +genius."</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Handing him still +another paper.</i>) And this.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. "London's grief." "The +news will come as a personal blow to every lover of great +painting." But—but—I'd no notion of this. (<i>Half to +himself.</i>) It's terrible.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, perhaps always +living with him you wouldn't realize how important he was, would +you? (<i>Distant music begins again, a waltz tune.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Reading.</i>) +"Although possibly something of a poseur in his choice of +subjects...." <!-- Page 61 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_61" +name='Page_61'>[61]</a></span>The fellow's a fool. Poseur +indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Look at this. "Europe in +mourning."</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well—well.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. What <i>is</i> that +music?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. London's grief. It's the +luncheon orchestra downstairs.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Telephone bell rings.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Never mind it. Let 'em +ring. I understand now why journalists and so on have been trying +all day to see me. Honestly I'm—I'm staggered.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Telephone bell continues to ring.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. It's a funny notion of +comfort having a telephone in every room. How long will it keep on +like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'll stop it. +(<i>Rising.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, no. (<i>Going to +telephone and taking receiver.</i>) Yes? What's the matter? +(<i>Listens. To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Oh, what +do you think? Father Looe and his sister, Miss Honoria Looe, want +to see you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Father Looe? Never heard +of him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, but you must have +heard of him. He's the celebrated Roman Catholic preacher. He's a +beautiful man. I heard him preach once on the Sins of Society.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 62 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_62" +name='Page_62'>[62]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +Would you mind saying I'm not at home?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Obviously +disappointed.</i>) Then won't you see him?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Did <i>you</i> want to see +him?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I should like just to have +had a look at him close to, as it were.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Gallantly.</i>) Then +you shall. Tell them to send him up, will you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And am I to stay here?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Of course.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, if anybody had told +me this time last week——(<i>Into telephone.</i>) Please +ask them to come up.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Perhaps with your being +here I shan't be quite so shy.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Shy! Are you shy? It said +in the <i>Telegraph</i> that Mr. Carve was painfully shy.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Protesting.</i>) +Painfully! Who told them that, I should like to know?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Now shyness is a thing I +simply can't understand. I'm never shy. And you don't strike me as +shy—far from it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's very curious. I +haven't felt a bit shy with you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Nobody ever is shy with +me.... (<i>Ironically.</i>) I must say I'd give something to see +<i>you</i> shy.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> FATHER <span class="smallcaps">Looe</span> +<i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span>, <i>announced by</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Page</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Stopping near door, at +a loss.</i>) Pardon me—Mr. Shawn—Mr. +<!-- Page 63 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_63" +name='Page_63'>[63]</a></span> Albert Shawn?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Rising, +perturbed.</i>) Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. This is your room?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. I'm afraid there's some +mistake. I was given to understand that you were +the—er—valet of the late Mr. Ilam Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Yes. Mr. Cyrus Carve +told us——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Coming to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve's</span> <i>rescue as he remains +speechless, very calmly.</i>) Now there's another trick of Mr. +Cyrus Carve's! Valet indeed! Mr. Shawn was Mr. Carve's +secretary—and almost companion.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Ten thousand apologies. Ten +thousand apologies. I felt sure——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Please sit down. (<i>With +special gallantry towards</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And will you sit down too, +Mr. Shawn? (<i>To the</i> <span class="smallcaps">Looes</span>.) +He's not at all well. That's why he's wearing his +dressing-gown.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Introducing.</i>) My +friend, Mrs. Janet Cannot.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Now, Mr. Shawn, if you knew +anything about me, if you have heard me preach, if you have read +any of my books, you are probably aware that I am a man who goes +straight to the point, hating subtleties. In connection with your +late employer's death <!-- Page 64 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_64" name='Page_64'>[64]</a></span>a great responsibility +is laid upon me, and I have come to you for +information—information which I have failed to obtain either +from Mr. Cyrus Carve, or the doctor, or the nurse.... Was Mr. Carve +a Catholic?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. A Catholic?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. He came of a Catholic +family did he not?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes—I believe +so.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. The cousin, Mr. Cyrus +Carve, I regret to say, denies the faith of his +childhood—denies it, I also regret to say, with a vivacity +that amounts almost to bad manners. In fact, he was extremely rude +to me when I tried to give him some idea of the tremendous revival +of Catholicism which is the outstanding feature of intellectual +life in England to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Ilam Carve was not a +Catholic.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Mind, I do not ask if he +died in the consolations of the faith. I know that he did not. I +have learnt that it occurred to neither you nor the doctor nor the +nurse to send for a priest. Strange omission. But not the fault of +the dying man.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Ilam Carve was not a +Catholic.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Then what was he?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Nothing in particular.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Then I claim him. Then I +claim him.... Honoria!</p> + +<p><!-- Page 65 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_65" +name='Page_65'>[65]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +(<i>In a new tone.</i>.) Look here—what's all this about?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Rising.</i>) I will +tell you at once what it is about, Mr. Shawn. There is a question +of Ilam Carve being buried in Westminster Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Thunderstruck.</i>) +Buried in Westminster Abbey?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Lady Leonard Alcar has +consulted me about the matter. I may say that I have the honour to +be her spiritual director. Probably you know that Lord Leonard +Alcar owns the finest collection of Ilam Carve's pictures in +Europe.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I've often wondered who it +is that settles whether people shall be buried in the Abbey or not. +So it's Lady Leonard Alcar!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Not exactly! Not exactly! +But Lady Leonard Alcar is a great lady. She has vast influence. The +most influential convert to Catholicism of the last thirty years. +She is aunt to no less than four dukes, and Lord Leonard is uncle +to two others.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Ironically.</i>) I +quite see.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Eagerly.</i>) You +see—don't you? Her advice on these matters carries enormous +weight. A suggestion from her amounts to—to—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. A decree absolute.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 66 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_66" +name='Page_66'>[66]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +(<i>Simply.</i>) Is she what they call the ruling classes?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Bows.</i>) Lady Leonard +and I have talked the matter over, and I pointed out to her that if +this great genius was a member of the Church of England and if the +sorrowing nation at large deems him worthy of the supreme honour of +a national funeral, then by all means let him be buried in the +Abbey. But if he was a Catholic, then I claim him for Westminster +Cathedral, that magnificent fane which we have raised as a symbol +of our renewed vitality. Now, was he a member of the Church of +England?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Loudly.</i>) Decidedly +not.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Good! Then I claim him. I +detest casuistry and I claim him. I have only one other question. +You knew him well—intimately—for many years. On your +conscience, Mr. Shawn, what interment in your opinion would he +himself have preferred?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>After a pause.</i>) It +wouldn't make much difference to him either way, would it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>With an outburst.</i>) +The whole thing is preposterous.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Ignoring the +outburst.</i>) My course seems quite clear. I shall advise Lady +Leonard—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Don't you think you're +rather young to be in sole charge of this country?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Smoothly.</i>) My dear +sir, I am nothing <!-- Page 67 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_67" name='Page_67'>[67]</a></span>but a humble priest who +gives counsel when counsel is sought. And I may say that in this +affair of the interment of our great national painter, there are +other influences than mine. For instance, my sister, Honoria, who +happens also to be president of the Ladies' Water Colour +Society—(<i>gesture of alarm from</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>)—my sister has a great +responsibility. She is the favourite niece of—(<i>Whispers +in</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve's</span> <i>ear</i>.) +Consequently—(<i>Makes an impressive pause.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. You see my uncle is a +bachelor and I keep house for him. Anselm used to live with us too, +until he left the Church.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Until I <i>joined</i> the +Church, Honoria. Now Honoria wishes to be perfectly fair; she +entirely realizes her responsibility; and that is why she has come +with me to see you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Benignantly.</i>) So +that's how these things are decided! I see I'd got quite a wrong +notion of politics and so on.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Oh, Mr. Shawn— +}</p> + +<p><span style='margin-left: 0.5em;'>and + + +} (<i>Together.</i>)</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. My idea was— + }</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I beg your pardon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. I beg yours.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Granted.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. There's one question I +should so like to ask you, Mr. Shawn. In watercolours did Mr. Carve +use Chinese white <!-- Page 68 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_68" name='Page_68'>[68]</a></span>freely or did he stick +to transparent colour, like the old English school? I wonder if you +understand me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Interested.</i>) He +used Chinese white like anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Oh! I'm so glad. You +remember that charming water-colour of the Venetian gondolier in +the Luxembourg. We had a great argument after we got home last +Easter as to whether the oar was put in with Chinese white—or +just 'left out,' you know!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Chinese white, of course. +My notion is that it doesn't matter a fig how you get effects so +long as you do get them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. And that was his notion +too? (<i>Telephone bell rings</i>, <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>answers it.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. His? Rather. You bet it +was.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. I'm so glad. I'm so +glad. I knew I was right about Chinese white. Oh, Anselm, do let +him be buried in the Abbey! Do let me suggest to +uncle——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. My dear girl, ask your +conscience. Enthusiasm for art I can comprehend; I can even +sympathize with it. But if this grave national question is to be +decided by considerations of Chinese white——</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>turns to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>as if for succour.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Calmly.</i>) The +doctor is just coming up.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. The doctor? What +doctor?</p> + +<p><!-- Page 69 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_69" +name='Page_69'>[69]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +A Dr. Horning. He says he's Dr. Pascoe's assistant and he attended +Mr. Carve, and he wants to see you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I don't want to see +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You'll have to see a +doctor.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Because you're ill. So you +may just as well see this one as another. They're all pretty much +of a muchness.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Peter</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Horning</span> <i>boisterously. A</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Page Boy</span> <i>opens the door but does not +announce him</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Perceiving</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span> <i>first</i>.) Ah, Father! You here? +How d'ye do? What did you think of my special on last Sunday's +sermon? (<i>Shakes hands with</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span> <i>and bows to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Miss Looe</span> <i>as to an +acquaintance</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Very good. Very good.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Advancing to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Mr. Shawn, I presume?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Glancing helplessly +at</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) But this isn't the +doctor?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Volubly.</i>) +Admitted! Admitted! I'm only his brother—a journalist. I'm on +the <i>Courier</i> and the <i>Mercury</i> and several other Worgan +papers. One of our chaps failed to get into this room this morning, +so I came along to try what <i>I</i> could do. You see what I've +done.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 70 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_70" +name='Page_70'>[70]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +Well, I never came across such a set of people in my life.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Aside to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span>.) Is he in service here, or what?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Mr. Shawn was Mr. Carve's +secretary and companion, not his valet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Puzzled, but accepting +the situation.</i>) Ah! So much the better. Now, Mr. Shawn, can you +tell me authoritatively whether shortly before his death Mr. Carve +was engaged to be married under romantic circumstances to a lady of +high rank?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Indeed!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Who told you that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. Then he was!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I've nothing to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. You won't tell me her +name?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I've nothing to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. Secondly, I'm instructed +to offer something considerable for your signature to an account of +Ilam Carve's eccentric life on the Continent.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Eccentric life on the +Continent!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. I shouldn't keep you half +an hour—three quarters at most. A hundred pounds. Cash down, +you know. Bank notes. All you have to do is to sign.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>To Janet, exhausted, +but disdainful.</i>) I wouldn't mind signing an order for the +fellow's execution.</p> + +<!-- Page 71 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_71" +name='Page_71'>[71]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. A hundred and fifty!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Or burning at the +stake.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span>.) What does he say?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Mr. Shawn is indisposed. +We've just been discussing the question of the burial in the Abbey. +I think I may say, if it interests you as an item of news, that +Ilam Carve will not be buried in the Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Lightly.</i>) Oh yes +he will, Father. There was a little doubt about it until we got +particulars of his will this morning. But his will settled it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. His will?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. Yes. Didn't you know? No, +you wouldn't. Well, his estate will come out at about a couple of +hundred thousand, and he's left it practically all for an +International Gallery of Modern Art in London. Very ingenious plan. +None of your Chantrey Bequest business. Three pictures and one +piece of sculpture are to be bought each year in London. Fixed +price £400 each, large or small. Trustees are to be business +men—bank directors. But they can't choose the works. The +works are to be chosen by the students at South Kensington and the +Academy Schools. Works by R.A.'s and A.R.A.'s are absolutely +barred. Works by students themselves absolutely barred, too. Cute +that, eh? That's the arrangement for <!-- Page 72 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_72" +name='Page_72'>[72]</a></span>England. Similar arrangement for +France, Italy, and Germany. He gives the thing a start by making it +a present of his own collection—stored somewhere in Paris. I +don't mean his own paintings—he bars those. Unusually modest, +eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. How perfectly splendid! +We shall have a real live gallery at last. Surely Anselm, after +that—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. Quite beside the point. I +shall certainly oppose.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. Oppose what?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. The burial in the Abbey. I +shall advise Lady Leonard Alcar—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. No use, Father. Take my +word. The governor's made up his mind. He's been fearfully keen on +art lately. I don't know why. We were in front of everybody else +with the news of Ilam Carve's death, and the governor's making a +regular pet of him. He says it's quite time we buried an artist in +Westminster Abbey, and he's given instructions to the whole team. +Didn't you see the <i>Mercury</i> this morning? Anybody who opposes +a national funeral for Ilam Carve will be up against the governor. +Of course, I tell you that as a friend—confidentially.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Shaken.</i>) Well, I +shall see what Lady Leonard says.</p> + +<!-- Page 73 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_73" +name='Page_73'>[73]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Rising in an angry, +scornful outburst.</i>) You'd bury him in Westminster Abbey because +he's a philanthropist, not because he's an artist. That's England +all over.... Well, I'm hanged if I'll have it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. But, my dear +sir——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And I tell you another +thing—he's not dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. Not dead—what +next?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. <i>I</i> am Ilam +Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>Soothingly.</i>) +Poor dear! He's not himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That's just what I am. +(<i>Sinks back exhausted.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. (<i>Aside to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span>.) Is he mad, Father? Nothing but a +clerk after all. And yet he takes a private room at the Grand +Babylon, and then he refuses a hundred and fifty of the best and +goes on like this. And now, blessed if he isn't Ilam Carve! +(<i>Laughs.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. I really think we ought to +leave.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) He's a little unhinged! But how +charming he is.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Prudently +resenting</i> <span class="smallcaps">Honoria's</span> <i>interest +in</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Yes, he's a little +unhinged. And who wouldn't be?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Peter</span>. Got 'em—if you ask +me! (<i>Moving to leave.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>. (<i>Moving to leave.</i>) +Honoria.</p> + +<!-- Page 74 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_74" +name='Page_74'>[74]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Very soothingly and +humouringly to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) So this +is what you call being shy!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>, <i>who is now bending over +him.</i>) It must be stopped.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>As the others go out; +humouring him.</i>) Yes, yes! (<i>Absently in reply to bows and +adieux of</i> <span class="smallcaps">Looe</span>, <span +class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>, <i>and</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Peter</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Horning</span>.) Good morning! (<i>When they are +gone, with a sigh of relief.</i>) Well, it is a mighty queer place! +My word, how cold your hands are! (<i>Going quickly to telephone +and speaking into telephone.</i>) Please send up two hot-water +bottles at once. Yes, hot-water bottles. Never heard of a hot-water +bottle before?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p><i>The Stage is darkened for a few moments to indicate the +passage of time.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>SCENE 2</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>Afternoon, four +days later.</i></p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>is dozing in an +easy-chair.</i></p> + +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>in his +dressing-gown.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Starting up.</i>) Mr. +Shawn, what are you doing out of bed? After such a dose of flu as +you've had!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'm doing nothing out of +bed. (<i>Twiddles his thumbs.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. But you've no right to be +out of bed at all.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I was afraid I hadn't. But +I called <!-- Page 75 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_75" +name='Page_75'>[75]</a></span>and called, and there was no answer. +So then I began to argue the point. Why not get up? I'd had a +tremendous long sleep. I felt singularly powerful. And I thought +you'd gone home.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Nay—that you never +did!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I did, honestly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Do you mean to say you +thought for a single moment I should go home and leave you like +that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes. But of course I +thought you might be coming back sooner or later.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well I never!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You've scarcely left me +for three days and three nights, Mrs. Cannot, so far as I remember. +Surely it was natural for me to suppose that you'd gone home to +your own affairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Sarcastically.</i>) It +didn't occur to you I might have dropped off to sleep?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Now, don't be angry. I'm +only convalescent.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Will you kindly march +right back to bed this instant?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, I'm dashed if I +do!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I beg pardon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I say, I'm dashed if I do! +I won't stir until I've thanked you. I've been ill I don't know how +many times; but this is the first time in my life I've ever enjoyed +being <!-- Page 76 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_76" +name='Page_76'>[76]</a></span>ill. D'you know (<i>with an ingenuous +smile.</i>) I'd really no idea what nursing was.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Drily.</i>) Hadn't +you? Well, if you call <i>that</i> nursing, I don't. But it was the +best I could do in this barracks, with the kitchen a mile and a +half off, and a pack of men that can't understand English gaping at +you all day in evening-dress. I dare say this is a very good hotel +for reading newspapers in. But if you want anything that isn't on +the menu, it's as bad as drawing money out of the post office +savings bank. You should see me nurse in my own house.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I should like to. Even in +this barracks (<i>imitating her.</i>) you've quite altered my views +of life.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, and they wanted +altering. When I think of you and that other poor fellow wandering +about all alone on that Continent—without the slightest +notion of what comfort is.... Well, I'll say this—it's a +pleasure to nurse you. Now, will you go back to bed?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I suppose coffee's on the +menu?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Coffee?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I think I should like some +<i>café au lait</i>, and a roll.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Rising.</i>) You can +have hot milk if you like.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. All right. And then when +I've had it I'll go to bed.</p> + +<!-- Page 77 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_77" +name='Page_77'>[77]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>At telephone.</i>) Are +you there?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Picking up a sheet of +paper from table.</i>) Hello! What's this? Hotel +bill-receipted?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I should think so indeed! +They sent it up the second day. (<i>Into telephone.</i>) Hot milk, +please, and let it <i>be</i> hot! (<i>Hanging up telephone. To</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) I expect they were afraid +for their money.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And you paid it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I took the money out of +your pockets and I just paid it. I never said a word. But if you +hadn't been ill I should have said something. Of all the swindles, +of all the barefaced swindles!... Do you see what it's costing you +to live here—a day?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, not much above four +pounds, I hope.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Speechless at +first.</i>) Any woman that knew her business could keep you for a +month—a month—for less than you spend here in a +day—and better. <i>And</i> better! Look here: "Biscuits, 1s. +6d.!"</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well (<i>confidentially +earnest.</i>), will you believe me when I tell you there wasn't a +pennyworth of biscuits on that plate? Do you think I don't know +what biscuits are a pound?</p> + +<p><!-- Page 78 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_78" +name='Page_78'>[78]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +Really!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Ironically.</i>) +"Cheapest in the end"—but I should say the end's a long way +off.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Who has picked up +another paper, on mantelpiece.</i>) What? "Admit Mr. Albert Shawn +to Westminster Abbey, cloisters entrance.... Funeral.... +Tuesday."... That's to-day, isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Moved.</i>) But you +told me he wasn't going to be buried in Westminster Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You told me Cyrus Carve +had insisted on cremation.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>With vivacity.</i>) +And what did you expect me to tell you? I had to soothe you +somehow; you were just about delirious. I was afraid if I told you +the truth you'd be doing something silly—seeing the state you +were in. Then it struck me a nice plain cremation at Woking was the +very thing to keep you quiet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Still more moved.</i>) +Then he's.... Westminster Abbey!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, I should say all is +over by this time. There were thousands of people for the +lying-in-state, it seems.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But it's awful. Absolutely +awful.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Why is it awful?</p> + +<!-- Page 79 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_79" +name='Page_79'>[79]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I told you—I +explained the whole thing to you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Humouring, +remonstrating.</i>) Mr. Shawn, surely you've got rid of that idea! +You aren't delirious now. You said you were convalescent, you +know.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. There'll be a perfect +Hades of a row. I must write to the Dean at once. I +must——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Soothingly.</i>) I +shouldn't if I were you. Why not let things be? No one would +believe that tale——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Do you believe it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Perfunctorily.</i>) Oh +yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, you don't. Honestly, +do you now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +Well——(<i>Knock at door.</i>) Come in. (<i>Enter</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Waiter</span> <i>with hot milk.</i>) Here's +your hot milk.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Waiter</span>. Miss Looe has called.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I must see her.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. But——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I <i>must</i> see her.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, very well. +(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Waiter</span>.) She's +telephoned each day to inquire how you were. She asked if you +wanted a seat for the funeral. I told her you couldn't possibly go, +but I was sure you'd like to be invited—whether it was the +Abbey or not. Please don't forget your milk.</p> + +<!-- Page 80 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_80" +name='Page_80'>[80]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Looe</span> <i>in mourning, introduced by</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Waiter</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>Coming in quickly, +bowing to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>and shaking +hands with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Good +afternoon. Please don't rise. I've heard how ill you've been. I've +only called because I simply had to.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's very kind of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Oh, Mr. Shawn, I know +you didn't want him to be buried in the Abbey. I'm all for quiet +funerals, too; but really this was an exceptional case, and I think +if you'd seen it you'd have been glad they did decide on the Abbey. +Oh, you've no idea how impressive it was! The Abbey is always so +fine, isn't it? And it was crammed. You never saw such a multitude +of distinguished people. I mean really distinguished—all in +black, except, of course, the uniforms. Royalties, ambassadors, +representatives from all the academies all over Europe. Rodin was +there!! The whole of artistic London came. I don't mean only +painters, but poets, novelists, sculptors, and musicians. The art +students had a corner to themselves. And you should have seen the +crowds outside. All traffic was stopped up as far as Trafalgar +Square. I've had some difficulty in getting here. The sun was +shining through the stained glass. And <!-- Page 81 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_81" name='Page_81'>[81]</a></span>the +music was magnificent. And then when the coffin was carried down +the nave—well, there was only one wreath on the +pall—just one—a white crown. All the other wreaths were +piled near the screen—scores and scores of them—the +effect was tremendous. I nearly cried. A lot of people did cry. +(<i>Genuinely moved.</i>) There was that great genius lying there. +He'd never done anything except put paint on canvas, and +yet—and yet.... Well, it made you feel somehow that England +does care for art after all.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After a pause.</i>) +And whom have we to thank for this beautiful national manifestation +of sympathy with art?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. How do you mean?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>With an attempt at +cold irony, but yet in a voice imperfectly controlled.</i>) Did +your brother relent and graciously permit Lady Leonard Alcar to +encourage a national funeral? Or was it due solely to the influence +of the newspapers written by people of refined culture like the man +who gave his opinion the other day that I had got 'em? Or perhaps +you yourself settled it with your esteemed uncle over a cup of +tea?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Of course, Mr. Shawn, +any one can see that you're artistic yourself, and artists are +generally very sarcastic about the British <!-- Page 82 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_82" +name='Page_82'>[82]</a></span>public. I know I am.... Now, don't +you paint?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Shrugging his +shoulders.</i>) I used to—a little.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. I was sure of it. Well, +you can be as sarcastic as you like, but do you know what I was +thinking during the service? I was thinking if only he could have +seen it—if only Ilam Carve could have seen it—instead +of lying cold in that coffin under that wreath, +he'd—(<i>Hesitating.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Interrupting her, in a +different, resolved tone.</i>) Miss Looe, I suppose you're on very +confidential terms with your uncle.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Naturally. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Will you give him a +message from me. He'll do perhaps better than anybody.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. With pleasure.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Moved.</i>) It is +something important—very important indeed. In fact—</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>goes into bedroom, but +keeping near the doorway does not actually disappear.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>Soothingly, and a +little frightened.</i>) Now, please, Mr. Shawn! Please don't +frighten us as you did the other day. Please do try and keep +calm!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I—(<i>He suddenly +stands up and then falls back again into chair.</i>)</p> + +<!-- Page 83 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_83" +name='Page_83'>[83]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>returns quickly to the +room</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>Alarmed, to</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) I'm afraid he isn't quite +well yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, I can't tell you. At +least, not now. Thanks very much for calling. (<i>Rises brusquely +and walks towards the bedroom door.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>.) He's not really strong enough to +see visitors.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>Going to door and +trying to be confidential.</i>) What <i>is</i> it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>With +tranquillity.</i>) Oh, influenza. Sometimes it takes 'em in the +head and sometimes in the stomach. It's taken him in the head.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Charming man! I don't +suppose there's the least likelihood of it—he's evidently +very well off—but if he <i>should</i> be wanting a situation +similar to his last, I'm sure my uncle——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Positively and +curtly.</i>) I don't think so.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. Of course you know him +very well?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, it's like this. I'm +his cousin. We aren't exactly engaged to be +married——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>. (<i>In a changed +tone.</i>) Oh, I see! Good afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Good afternoon.</p> + +<!-- Page 84 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_84" +name='Page_84'>[84]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Honoria</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Who has hesitatingly +wandered back towards centre; in a quite different tone now that he +is alone again with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) +What's this about being engaged to be married?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Smiling.</i>) I was +telling her we weren't engaged to be married. That's true, I +suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But are we cousins?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes. I've got my +reputation to think about. I don't want to coddle it, but there's +no harm in just keeping an eye on it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I see. (<i>Sits +down.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. If nothing comes of all +this—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. All what?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. All this illness and +nursing and sitting up at nights,—then I'm just your cousin, +and no harm done.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But do you mean to say +you'd—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stopping him.</i>) Not +so fast! (<i>Pause. She continues reflectively.</i>) Do you know +what struck me while her ladyship was telling you about all the +grand doings at the funeral—What good has it ever done +<i>him</i> to be celebrated and make a big splash in the world? Was +he any happier for it? From all I can hear he was always trying to +hide just as if the police were after him. He never had the +slightest notion of comfort, and so you needn't tell me! And +there's another thing—you <!-- Page 85 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_85" +name='Page_85'>[85]</a></span>needn't tell me he wasn't always +worrying about some girl or other, because I know he was. A +bachelor at his age never thinks about anything else—morning, +noon, and night. It stands to reason—and they can say what +they like—I know. And now he's dead—probably because +he'd no notion of looking after himself, and it's been in all the +papers how wonderful he was, and florists' girls have very likely +sat up half the night making wreaths, and Westminster Abbey was +crowded out with fashionable folk—and do you know what all +those fashionable folk are thinking about just now—tea! And +if it isn't tea, it's whisky and soda.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But you mustn't forget +that he was really very successful indeed.... Just look at the +money he made, for instance.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, if sovereigns had +been any use to him he'd never have left two hundred thousand of +them behind him—him with no family. No, he was no better than +a fool with money. Couldn't even spend it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. He had the supreme +satisfaction of doing what he enjoyed doing better than anybody +else could do it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And what was that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Painting.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Casually.</i>) Oh! and +couldn't he have had that without running about all over +<!-- Page 86 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_86" +name='Page_86'>[86]</a></span>Europe? He might just as well have +been a commercial traveller. Take my word for it, Mr. Shawn, +there's nothing like a comfortable home and a quiet life—and +the less you're in the newspapers the better.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Thoughtfully.</i>) Do +you know—a good deal of what you say applies to me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And <i>you</i> now! As +we're on the subject—before we go any further—you're a +bachelor of forty-five, same as him. What have you been doing with +yourself lately?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Doing with myself?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I think I ought to +ask because when I was stealing (<i>with a little nervous +laugh</i>) the money out of your pocket to pay that hotel bill, I +came across a lady's photograph. I couldn't help coming across it. +Seeing how things are, I think I ought to ask.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, <i>that</i>! It must +be a photograph of the lady <i>he</i> was engaged to. He broke it +off, you know. That was why we came to London in such a hurry.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Then it is true—what +the newspaper reporter said? (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>nods.</i>) One of the aristocracy—(<span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>nods.</i>) Who was she?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Lady Alice Rowfant.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. What was it doing in your +pocket?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I don't know. Everything +got mixed up. Clothes, papers, everything.</p> + +<!-- Page 87 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_87" +name='Page_87'>[87]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Sure?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Of course! Look here, do +you suppose Lady Alice Rowfant is anything to <i>me</i>?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. She isn't?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Honestly? (<i>Looking at +him closely.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Honestly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>With obvious +relief.</i>) Well, that's all right then! Now will you drink this +milk, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I just wanted to tell +you——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Will you drink this milk? +(<i>Pours out a glassful for him.</i>)</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>addresses himself to +the milk.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>begins to put on her +things.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I say, what are you +doing?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I'm going home.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What? Now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. At once.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But you can't leave me +like this. I'm very ill.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh no, you aren't. You're +very much better. Anyone can see that. All you've got to do is to +return to bed and stick to slops.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And when shall you come +back?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You might come down to see +me one day at Putney.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 88 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_88" +name='Page_88'>[88]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +I shall be delighted to. But before that, won't you come here?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>After a pause.</i>) +I'll try and come the day after to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why not to-morrow?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, a couple of days +without me'll do you no harm. It's a mistake to be in a hurry when +you've got all your life in front of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After a pause.</i>) +Listen—have some tea before you go.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No. (<i>Holds out her +hand, smiling.</i>) Good afternoon. Now do go to bed.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I haven't <i>begun</i> to +thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No—and I hope you +won't begin.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You're so sudden.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. It's sudden or +nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Holding her hand.</i>) +I say—what can you see in me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, if it comes to +that—what can you see in me? (<i>Withdrawing her +hand.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I—I don't know what +it is.... Something.... (<i>Lightly.</i>) I dunno! Everything!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. That's too much. Good-bye! +I'll come about this time the day after to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Supposing I have a +relapse?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>At door.</i>) You +won't if you do as I tell you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But supposing I do?</p> + +<!-- Page 89 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_89" +name='Page_89'>[89]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, you can always +telegraph, can't you?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, <i>after finishing milk, +suddenly gets up and searches on writing table: he then goes to the +telephone.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Into telephone.</i>) +Please send me up a telegraph form.</p> + +<div class="centerme"><b>CURTAIN.</b></div> + +<!-- Page 90 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_90" +name='Page_90'>[90]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a id="ACT_III" name='ACT_III'></a> +<h2>ACT III</h2> + +<h3>SCENE I</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><i>Parlour in Janet's house in Putney. A perfectly ordinary +suburban interior of a small house; but comfortable. Table in +centre. Door</i>, R., <i>up stage, leading to hall. Door</i>, L., +<i>down stage, leading to kitchen and back premises.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>Morning in early +autumn. Rather more than two years have elapsed.</i></p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p><i>Discovered</i>—<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>reading newspaper at breakfast-table.</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>in an apron is hovering busily +near him.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Putting cigarettes and +matches down beside</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Want +anything else, dear? (<i>No answer from</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Because I must set about my +morning's work. (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>continues +to read.</i>) Albert, are you sure you don't want anything +else?</p> + +<!-- Page 91 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_91" +name='Page_91'>[91]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>As he still gives her no sign of attention, she snatches the +paper away from him, and throws it on the floor.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Not having moved his +eyes.</i>) The pattern of this jug is really not so bad.... Yes, my +soul?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I've asked you I don't +know how many times whether you want anything else, because I must +set about my morning's work.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Is there any more +coffee?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, plenty.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Hot?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Then I don't want any. Got +any bacon?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, but I can cook a slice +in a minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>With an affectation of +martyrdom.</i>) Doesn't matter.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh yes, I will. (<i>Moving +away.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Drawing her to him by +her apron.</i>) Can't you see he's teasing you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. She's got no time in the +morning for being teased.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>She takes a cigarette, lights it and immediately puts it in +his mouth.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And now you're going to +leave me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Sure you're all right? +(<i>He nods.</i>) Quite sure you're happy?</p> + +<!-- Page 92 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_92" +name='Page_92'>[92]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Jane—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I wish you wouldn't call +me Jane.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I will call you Jane. +Jane, why do you ask me if I'm sure I'm happy? When a man has +first-class food and first-class love, together with a genuine +French bed, really waterproof boots, a constant supply of hot water +in the bathroom, enough money to buy cigarettes and sixpenny +editions, the freedom to do what he likes all day and every +day—and—let me see, what else—a complete absence +of domestic servants—then either that man is happy or he is a +silly cuckoo!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You aren't getting +tired—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. My sweet child, what's the +matter with you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Nothing, nothing. Only +to-day's the second anniversary of our wedding—and +you've—you've said nothing about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After a shocked +paused.</i>) And I forgot it last year, didn't I? I shall be +forgetting my dinner next.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh no, you won't!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And yet all last week I +was thinking about this most important day, and telling myself I +must remember it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Very easy to say that. But +how can you prove it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, it does just happen +that the proof is behind the sideboard.</p> + +<!-- Page 93 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_93" +name='Page_93'>[93]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. A present?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. A present. It was all +ready and waiting five days ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Drawing a framed +picture from behind the sideboard, and trying to hide her +disappointment, but not quite succeeding.</i>) Oh! A picture! Who +is it? (<i>Examines it with her nose close to it.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No, no. You can't take a +picture like snuff! Get away from it. (<i>He jumps up, snatches the +picture from her, and exposes it on a chair at the other side of +the room.</i>) Now! (<i>He sits down again.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, it doesn't look quite +so queer like that. Those are my cooking sleeves, and that seems a +bit like my kitchen—that's my best copper pan! Is the young +woman meant to be me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, not to beat about +the bush, yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I don't consider it very +flattering.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. How many times have you +told me you hate flattery?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Running to him.</i>) +Now he's hurt. Oh, he's hurt. (<i>Kissing him.</i>) It's a +beautiful picture, and the frame's lovely! And she's so glad he +didn't forget.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It is pretty good. In fact +it's devilish good. It's one of the best things I ever did in my +life. Old Carve would have got eight hundred for that like a +shot.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 94 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_94" +name='Page_94'>[94]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +(<i>Sceptically.</i>) Would he? It's wonderful how wonderful people +are when they're dead.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And now will she let him +finish reading his paper?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Handing him the paper, +then putting her head close to his and looking at the paper.</i>) +What was it he was reading that made him so deaf he couldn't hear +his wife when she spoke to him?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. This.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Reading.</i>) "Ilam +Carve's princely bequest. The International Gallery of Art. +Foundation stone laying. Eloquent speech by Lord Rosebery." Oh! So +they've begun it at last?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, they've begun it at +last.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, if you ask me, I +should have thought he could have found something better to do with +his money.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. As for example?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I should have +thought there were more than enough picture galleries as it is. Who +wants 'em? Even when they're free, people won't go into them unless +it's a wet day. I've never been in a free picture gallery yet that +wasn't as empty as a church. Stands to reason! It isn't even a +cinematograph. When I see rows of people in Trafalgar Square +waiting to get into the <!-- Page 95 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_95" name='Page_95'>[95]</a></span>National Gallery, then I +shall begin to think it's about time we had some more galleries. If +I'd been Ilam Carve——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, what should you have +done, witch?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I should have left a bit +more to you, for one thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I don't want more. If he'd +left me eight hundred a year instead of eighty, I shouldn't be any +happier. That's just what I've learnt since I took lodgings in your +delightful wigwam, Jane—money and fame have no connection +whatever with happiness.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Money has, when you +haven't got enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I have. You won't hear +of me paying more than half the household expenses, and you say +they're never more than thirty shillings a week. Half +thirty—fifteen. Look at the balance it leaves me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And supposing I had to ask +you to pay more?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>In a serious +sympathetic tone, startled.</i>) Anything wrong?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, there's nothing +<i>wrong</i>, as it were—yet——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Jane, I do believe you've +been hiding something from me.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 96 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_96" +name='Page_96'>[96]</a></span><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. +(<i>With difficulty pulls a letter from her pocket.</i>) +No—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I've felt it for several +days.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You just haven't then. +Because I only got it this morning. Here, you may as well read it. +(<i>Handing him the letter.</i>) It's about the brewery.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Reading.</i>) "Mrs. +Albert Shawn. Sir or Madam."—Why are shareholders never +supposed to have any particular sex?—"Sir or Madam. Cohoon's +Brewery, Ltd.,—I am directed by the shareholders' provisional +committee of investigation to request your attendance at an +informal meeting of shareholders to be held in room 2009 Winchester +House on Friday the 20th inst. at noon. If you cannot be present, +will you kindly write stating whether or not you will be prepared +to support the committee of investigation at the annual meeting. In +view of the probability that the directors' report will be +unfavourable, and the ordinary dividend either passed or much +reduced, the committee wishes to be thoroughly prepared and armed. +Believe me, Sir or Madam." Oh! So that's it, is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes. My father said to me +before he died, "Keep the money in beer, Janet"; he said, "Beer'll +never fail in this country." And there you are!</p> + +<!-- Page 97 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_97" +name='Page_97'>[97]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>She goes to fireplace, opens coal scuttle, takes out a piece +of paper ready placed within, and sticks it on the handle so as to +keep her hands from being soiled as she replenishes the +fire.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Lightly.</i>) Oh, +well! We must wait and see what happens.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Supposing the dividend +doesn't happen?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I never worry about +money.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. But we shall want to eat +once or twice pretty nearly every day, I suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Personally, I am quite +satisfied with a plain but perfect table.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You needn't tell me what +you are satisfied with. You're satisfied with the very best at one +shilling and sixpence a pound.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I can place eighty pounds +per annum at your absolute disposal. That alone will pay for over a +thousand best cuts.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, and what about your +clothes and my clothes, and the rates and taxes, and bus-fares, and +holidays, and your cigarettes, and doctor, and errand boys' +Christmas-boxes, and gas, and coal, and repairs? Repairs! A +<i>hundred</i> and eighty is more like what we want.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And yet you have several +times taken your Bible oath that my half-share of it all came to +less than forty pounds.</p> + +<!-- Page 98 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_98" +name='Page_98'>[98]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well—er—I was +thinking of food. (<i>She begins to collect the breakfast +things.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Jane, you have been a +deceitful thing. But never mind. I will draw a veil over this +sinful past. Let us assume that beer goes all to pieces, and that +you never get another cent out of Cohoon's. Well, as you need a +hundred and eighty a year, I will give you a hundred and eighty a +year.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And where shall you get +the extra hundred?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I shall earn it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, you don't. I won't +have you taking any more situations.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I shall earn it here.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. How?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Painting!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stopping her work and +coming towards him, half-caressing and half-chiding.</i>) I don't +<i>mind</i> this painting business. Don't think I object to it in +the least. There's a strong smell with it now and then, but it does +keep you quiet in the attic while I'm cleaning the house, and +that's something. And then going out making sketches you get +exercise and fresh air. Being with Ilam Carve so long, I expect you +picked up the habit as it were, and I'm sure I don't want you to +drop it. I love to see you enjoying yourself. But you don't suppose +people'll <i>buy</i> these things <!-- Page 99 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_99" +name='Page_99'>[99]</a></span>(<i>pointing vaguely to picture on +chair</i>), do you? No; there's far too many amateur artists about +for <i>that</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. If I wanted, I could take +a cab and sell that in Bond Street inside sixty minutes at my own +price. Only I don't want.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Now, just listen to me. +You remember that picture you did of Putney Bridge with the saloon +entrance of the Reindeer Public House showing in the corner? It was +one of the first you did here.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, I was looking for it +the other day, and I couldn't find it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I'm not surprised. Because +it's sold.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Sold? (<i>Excited.</i>) +What in the name of——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Soothing him.</i>) +Now—now! Do you remember you said Ilam Carve would have got +£1000 for a thing just like that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. So he would. It was +absolutely characteristic.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I said to myself, +"He seems mighty sure of himself. Supposing it's me that's wrong?" +So one day I quietly took that picture round to Bostock's, the +second-hand furniture man, you know,—he was a friend of +father's,—and I asked him what he'd give me for it. He +wouldn't take it at any price. Not at any price. Then I asked him +if he'd keep it in his shop and sell it for me +<!-- Page 100 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_100" +name='Page_100'>[100]</a></span>on commission. Well, it stuck in +Bostock's shop—in his window and out of his window—for +twelve months and more, and then one day the landlord of the +Reindeer saw it and he bought it for six shillings, because his +public-house was in it. He was half-drunk. Mr. Bostock charged me +eighteenpence commission, and I bought you two neckties with the +four and six, and I said nothing because I didn't want your +feelings to be hurt. And that reminds me, last week but one they +took the landlord of the Reindeer off to the lunatic asylum.... So, +you see!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Serious, +preoccupied.</i>) And where's the picture now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I shouldn't be surprised +if it's in the private bar of the Reindeer.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I must get hold of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Albert, you aren't vexed, +are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Forcing himself to +adopt a light tone.</i>) How could I be vexed with two neckties to +the good? But don't do it again, Jane. I shall go round to the +Reindeer this morning and have a drink. If that picture ever found +its way to a Bond Street expert's, the consequences might be +awkward—devilish awkward. Because it's dated, you see.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, I don't see. I +shouldn't have said <!-- Page 101 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_101" name='Page_101'>[101]</a></span>a word about it, only +I wanted to save you from being disappointed later on.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>In a new casual +tone.</i>) Just get me my cash-box, will you?</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>at once produces the +cash-box from a drawer.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And what now? I'm not +broke yet, you great silly. (<i>Laughs, but is rather intimidated +by</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve's</span> <i>air.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Having unlocked box +and taken a bag from it.</i>) You see that? (<i>He showers gold out +of it.</i>) Well, count it!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Gracious! +Ten—fifteen—eighteen—twenty?—two—four—twenty-six +pounds. These your savings?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. That's what I've earned +with painting, just at odd times.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Really? (<span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>nods.</i>) You could knock me +down with a feather!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'll tell you. You know +the framemaker's next to Salmon and Gluckstein's. I buy my colours +and canvases and things there. They cost money. I owed the chap two +pounds once, and one morning, in the shop, when I was opening my +box to put some new tubes in, he saw one of my pictures all wet. He +offered of his own accord to take it for what I owed him. I +wouldn't let him have it. <!-- Page 102 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_102" name='Page_102'>[102]</a></span>But I was rather hard +up, so I said I'd do him another instead, and I did him one in a +different style and not half as good, and of course he liked it +even better. Since then, I've done him quite a few. It isn't that +I've needed the money; but it's a margin, and colours and frames, +etc. come to a dickens of a lot in a year.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Staggered.</i>) And +whatever does he do with them?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. With the pictures? Don't +know. I've never seen one in his window. I haven't been selling him +any lately.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, I didn't feel like it. +And the things were getting too good. But, of course, I can start +again any time.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Still staggered.</i>) +Two pounds a piece? (<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>nods.</i>) Would he give you two pounds for that? (<i>Pointing +to portrait.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You bet he would.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Why! Two pounds would keep +us for the best part of a week. How long does it take you to do +one?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Noise of motor car outside.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, three or four hours. I +work pretty quickly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, it's like a fairy +tale. Two <!-- Page 103 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_103" +name='Page_103'>[103]</a></span>pounds! I don't know whether I'm +standing on my head or my heels!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Violent ringing at front door bell.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. There's one of your +tradesmen.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. It isn't. They know better +than come to my front door. They know I won't have it.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit, throwing off apron.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>examines the portrait +of his wife with evident pleasure.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>To himself.</i>) That +'ud make 'em sit up in Bond Street. (<i>Laughs grimly.</i>)</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Voices off. Re-enter</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>, <i>followed by</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Ebag</span> <i>carrying a picture.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, it never rains but +it pours. Here's a gentleman in a motor car wants to know if you've +got any pictures for sale. (<i>She calmly conceals her +apron.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>With diplomatic caution +and much deference.</i>) Good-morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Whose entire demeanour +has suddenly changed into hostility.</i>) Good-morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I've been buying some very +delightful little things of yours from a man that calls himself a +picture-dealer and frame-maker (<i>ironically</i>) in the High +Street here. I persuaded him—not without difficulty—to +give me your address. And I've ventured to <!-- Page 104 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_104" +name='Page_104'>[104]</a></span>call just to see if by chance you +have anything for sale.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. By chance I haven't!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Nothing at all?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Not a square inch.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Catching sight of +Janet's portrait.</i>) Pardon me. May I look?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, do!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. A brilliant likeness.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Who of?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Why, madam—yourself? +The attitude is extraordinarily expressive. And if I may say so +(<i>glancing at</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>) the +placing of the high lights—those white sleevelets—what +d'you call them?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Why! Those are my +cooking-sleeves!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Quietly.</i>) +Yes—well—it's genius—mere genius.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Looking at picture +afresh</i>) It <i>is</i> rather pretty when you come to look at +it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. It is a masterpiece, madam. +(<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Then I may not +make an offer for it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. No.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Excuse me, Albert. Why +shouldn't the gentleman make an offer for it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Quickly seizing an +opportunity</i>) If you cared to consider, say, five hundred +pounds.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Five hundred +p——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I came down quite prepared +to spend—and to pay cash. (<i>Fingers his +pocket-book.</i>)</p> + +<!-- Page 105 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_105" +name='Page_105'>[105]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Sitting down.</i>) And +if it isn't a rude question—do you generally go about with +five hundred pounds in your pocket, as it were?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Raising his hands.</i>) +In my business, madam—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's not for sale. +(<i>Turns it round.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Vivaciously.</i>) Oh +yes, it is. <i>Somebody</i> in this house must think about the +future. (<i>Cajolingly.</i>) If this gentleman can show me five +hundred pounds it's for sale. After all, it's my picture. And you +can do me another one. I'd much sooner be done without the +cooking-sleeves. (<i>Entreating.</i>) Albert!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Shy, nervous, and +tongue-tied.</i>) Well!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Endearingly.</i>) +That's right! That's all right!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Putting down +notes.</i>) If you will kindly count these—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Taking the notes.</i>) +Nay, I'm too dizzy to count them. (<i>As if giving up any attempt +to realize the situation.</i>) It fairly beats me! I never +<i>did</i> understand this art business, and I never +shall....(<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>.) Why are +you so interested in my portrait? You've never seen me before.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Madam, your portrait +happens to be one of the very finest modern paintings I ever saw. +(<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) I have a picture +here as to which I should like to ask your opinion. (<i>Exposing +picture.</i>) I bought it ten years ago.</p> + +<!-- Page 106 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_106" +name='Page_106'>[106]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After seeing +picture.</i>) Janet, would you mind leaving us a minute.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Triumphant with her +money.</i>) Not a bit.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i>, L.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Bowing to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. <i>Then to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) It's signed "Ilam Carve." Should +you say it's a genuine Carve?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>More and more +disturbed.</i>) Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Where was it painted?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why do you ask me?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Quietly dramatic.</i>) +Because you painted it. (<i>Pause. He approaches</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Master——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What's that?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Master!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Pause.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Impulsively.</i>) Look +here! I never could stick being called "master"! It's worse even +than "maître." Have a cigarette? How did you find out who I +was?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Pointing to Janet's +portrait.</i>) Isn't that proof enough?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, but you knew before +you saw that.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>After +lighting-cigarette.</i>) I did. I knew from the very first picture +I bought from our friend the "picture-dealer and frame-maker" in +the early part of last year.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 107 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_107" +name='Page_107'>[107]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I'd completely altered my +style. I altered it on purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Shaking his head.</i>) +My dear sir, there was once a well-known man who stood six feet ten +inches high. He shaved off his beard and dyed his hair, and +invented a very ingenious costume, and went to a Fancy Dress Ball +as Tom Thumb. Strange to say, his disguise was penetrated +immediately.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Who are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. My name is Ebag—New +Bond Street.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What! You're my old +dealer!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. And I'm delighted at last +to make your acquaintance, sir. It wasn't until I'd bought several +of those small canvases from the Putney man that I began to inquire +closely into their origin. As a general rule it's a mistake for a +dealer to be too curious. But my curiosity got the better of me. +And when I found out that the pictures were being produced week by +week, fresh, then I knew I was on the edge of some mystery.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Awkwardly.</i>) The +fact is, perhaps, I ought to explain.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Pardon me. I ask nothing. +It isn't my affair. I felt certain, solely from the evidence of +what I was buying, that the great painter who was supposed to be +buried in Westminster Abbey, and whose somewhat premature funeral I +attended, must be alive <!-- Page 108 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_108" name='Page_108'>[108]</a></span>and painting +vigorously. I wanted the assurance from your lips. I have it. The +rest does not concern me—at any rate, for the moment.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I'll say this—you +know a picture when you see it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Proudly.</i>) I am an +expert, nothing else.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. All right! Well, I'll only +ask you to persevere in your discretion. As you say, it isn't your +affair. Thank goodness, I didn't put a date on any of these things. +I won't sell any more. I'd take an oath never to paint again, only +I know I should go and break it next week. I shall rely on this +famous discretion of yours to say nothing—nothing +whatever.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I'm afraid it's too +late.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. How too late?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I'm afraid I shall have to +ask you to state publicly that you are Ilam Carve, and that there +must have been—er—some misapprehension, somewhere, over +that funeral.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Aghast.</i>) Publicly? +Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. It's like this, I've been +selling those pictures to Texel in New York. You remember, he's +always been one of your principal collectors. He's getting old, and +he's half-blind, but he still buys. Now, I rely on my judgment, and +I guaranteed those pictures to <!-- Page 109 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_109" name='Page_109'>[109]</a></span>be +genuine Carves. Well, somebody over there must have had +suspicions.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What does that matter? +There isn't a date on any of them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Just so. But in one of +those pictures there's most distinctly a taxi-cab. It isn't a +private motor car. It's a taxi.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And if there is? No law +against painting a taxi, I hope!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Again quietly +dramatic.</i>) No. But at the date of your funeral there wasn't a +single taxi on the streets of London.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. The devil!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Exactly. Texel is bringing +an action against me for misrepresentation. I shall have to ask you +to give evidence and say who you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Angrily.</i>) But I +won't give evidence! You've brought this on yourself. How much did +you sell those little pictures for?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Oh, an average of between +four and five hundred.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And what did you pay for +them? I ask you, what did you pay for them?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Smoothly.</i>) Four +pounds a piece. The fact is—I did rather well out of +them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Damned Jew!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Smoothly.</i>) +Damned—possibly. Jew—most decidedly. But in this +particular instance I behaved just like a Christian. I +<!-- Page 110 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_110" +name='Page_110'>[110]</a></span>paid a little less than I was +asked, and sold for the highest I could get. I am perfectly +innocent, and my reputation is at stake.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I don't care.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. But I do. It's the +reputation of the greatest expert in Europe. And I shall have to +insist on you going into the witness-box.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Horrified.</i>) Me in +the witness-box! Me cross-examined! No. That's always been my +nightmare!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Nevertheless—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Please go. +(<i>Commandingly.</i>) Please go.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>, <i>intimidated by</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Carve's</span> <i>demeanour, picks up his +pictures to depart.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>At door.</i>) Your wife +will perhaps be good enough to post me a receipt for that trifle. +(<i>Very respectfully.</i>) Good-morning.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i>, R.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>goes to door</i>, L., +<i>and opens it.</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>is +standing behind it.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You've been listening?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Counting her +banknotes.</i>) Well, naturally! (<i>Putting notes in her +purse.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Here's a perfect Hades of +a mess.</p> + +<!-- Page 111 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_111" +name='Page_111'>[111]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And it all comes of this +painting. Art as it's called. (<i>She finds her apron and puts it +on.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>With an air of +discovery.</i>) Your faculty for keeping calm really is most +singular.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Somebody has to keep +calm.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Voice off</i>: "Butcher.")</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Anybody would say you +didn't care a cent whether I'm Ilam Carve or whether I'm somebody +else.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. What does it matter to me +who you are, so long as you're <i>you</i>? Men are so unpractical. +You can be the Shah of Persia if you like—I don't mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But aren't you convinced +now?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Voice off</i>: "Butcher.")</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>With an enigmatic +smile at</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Coming! +Coming!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>The stage is darkened to indicate the passage of several +months.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<!-- Page 112 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_112" +name='Page_112'>[112]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>SCENE 2</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>Before daylight on +a morning in February. Fire burning in grate. Also a speck of gas. +Otherwise it is dark.</i></p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>is discovered +reposing-in an easy-chair. Enter</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>with a candle.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stiffly.</i>) So +<i>you've</i> not been to sleep either?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Stiffly.</i>) Oh yes; +had an excellent night in this chair.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Going to fire.</i>) +Now, you're only boasting. If you've had such an excellent night +(<i>imitating him</i>), who's kept up such an excellent fire?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Lamely.</i>) Well, of +course I looked after it now and then. I didn't want to perish in +my solitude.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Then why didn't you come +to bed, great baby?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Sitting up with +solemnity.</i>) Janet, we are a pair of great babies to have +quarrelled like that,—especially at bedtime.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Simply.</i>) +Quarrelled?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, didn't we?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. <i>I</i> didn't. I agreed +with everything you said.</p> + +<!-- Page 113 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_113" +name='Page_113'>[113]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What did you agree with? I +should like to know.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You said I didn't really +believe after all that you are Ilam Carve, and I assured you in the +most soothing manner that I did believe you are Ilam Carve!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And do you call that +agreeing with me? I know perfectly well from your tone that in +spite of all my explanations and reiterations during the last three +months you <i>don't</i> believe I'm Ilam Carve. You only say you do +in order to soothe me. I hate being soothed. You're as convinced as +ever that Ebag is a rascal, and that I've got a bee in my +bonnet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. But what does it +matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Cold and hard.</i>) +Well, I like that!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Weeping.</i>) It's not +my fault if I don't believe you're Ilam Carve. I would if I could, +but I can't! You're very cruel.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Jumping up and +embracing her.</i>) Hush, hush! There! (<i>Cajolingly.</i>) Who's +being an infant now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I don't pretend to +understand this art.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I hope you never will. One +of the chief charms of existence in your wigwam, my child, is that +I never hear any confounded chatter about art. Now—are we +pals?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Smiling +reconciliation.</i>) Darling, do turn the gas up.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 114 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_114" +name='Page_114'>[114]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Obeying, struck by her +attire.</i>) Why—what are you dressed like that for?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I was thinking of going +away.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i>, L.)</p> + +<p>(<i>She re-enters immediately with kettle and puts it on +fire.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Going away?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Smiling.</i>) Now do +listen, darling. Let's go away. We can't stop here. This Ebag case +is getting more and more on your nerves, and on mine too. I'm sure +that's what's the matter with us. What it'll be next week when the +trial comes on, I don't know—upon my soul I don't. It's all +very well for you to refuse to see callers and never go out. But I +can tell you one thing—we shall have those newspaper people +on the roof in a day or two, and looking down the chimney to see +how I lay the fire. Lawyers are nothing to them. Do you +know—no you don't, because I didn't want you to be +upset—last night's milk was brought by a +journalist—with a camera. They're beginning to bribe the +tradesmen. I tremble to think what <i>will</i> be in this morning's +papers.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Trying to make light +of it.</i>) Oh, nothing will upset me now. But you might let me +know at once if the editor of the <i>Spectator</i> calls round with +the bread.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 115 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_115" +name='Page_115'>[115]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And I'll tell you another thing. +That Mr. Horning—you know the breathless man on the +<i>Evening Courier</i> that came to the Grand Babylon—he's +taken lodgings opposite—arrived last night.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, for a machine +gun—one simple little machine gun!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>, L.)</p> + +<p><i>She immediately returns with a tray containing bread, etc., +and a toasting-fork.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. So I thought if we just +vanished—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's too late—I've +had the subpoena. If I hooked it, everybody would say I was an +adventurer.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. We could come back for the +trial.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. We should be followed.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Not if we start now.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, <i>now</i>! The back +door. Before it gets light.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Creep away in the dark! +No! I'll go through with the thing.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I shall travel +alone, then. Here's my bunch of keys. I'll just explain to you +where everything is. I daresay Mrs. Simpson will come in and clean +up. She's not bad, as charwomen go.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Jane!</p> + +<!-- Page 116 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_116" +name='Page_116'>[116]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You're taking an unfair +advantage of me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Putting tea leaves in +teapot.</i>) What if I am?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You're only a woman after +all.... And I'd thought so highly of you!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Sweetly.</i>) Then +you'll come. Better brush yourself up first.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What time is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Looking at clock.</i>) +Seven o'clock.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Where do you mean to drag +me to?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, what about this +Continent of yours that I've heard so much of?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. There's a train from +Victoria at 8.30.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Very well then. We'll have +another breakfast at Victoria.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And the cab?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. There isn't going to be +any cab—<i>nor</i> luggage—rousing the whole street! +(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>goes to window.</i>) For +goodness' sake don't draw those curtains—with the gas flaring +up!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Conspiratorial.</i>) +Supposing there's some journalist on the watch outside!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I wanted to look at the +weather.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, go to the front +door, and mind you open it quietly.</p> + +<!-- Page 117 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_117" +name='Page_117'>[117]</a></span> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, R.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>pours water on +tea.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Exit</i>, L.)</p> + +<p>(<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>quickly.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I say, here's a curate +pushed himself in at the front door!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>, L.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, he's come in at the +back.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. But I tell you he's +<i>here</i>!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">James</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, L. <i>Then enter</i> <span +class="smallcaps">John</span> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, +R. <i>Pause.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Now let me entreat +everybody to remain perfectly calm.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, don't worry about +that. Nothing startles us now. A few curates more or less....</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Sinking into +chair.</i>) I suppose this is the very newest journalism. Would you +mind me asking a question?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. What is it?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>makes the tea.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why did you wait till the +door was opened? Seems a pity to stand on ceremony. Why not have +broken a window or so and climbed right in?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. John, is mother there?</p> + +<p><!-- Page 118 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_118" +name='Page_118'>[118]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">John</span>. (<i>At door</i>, R.) Mother, how +often shall I have to ask you to keep close to me?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Mrs. Shawn</span>, R.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. I'm all of a tremble.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. (<i>Firmly.</i>) Come now, +you mustn't give way. This is he (<i>pointing to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>). Do you recognise him as our +father? (<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>, <i>who is cutting a +slice of bread, stops and looks from one to the other.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Albert, don't you know me? To +think that next Tuesday it'll be six and twenty years since you +walked out o' the house casual like and—and—(<i>Stops +from emotion.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Go on. Go on.... To think +that I was once shy!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.) Here, you'd better come and sit a +bit nearer the fire. (<i>Very kindly.</i>) Come along now!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. (<i>Obeying.</i>) Thank +you, m'm.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">John</span>.) And which of you boys was it that +had the idea of keeping a middle-aged woman perishing on a doorstep +before daylight in February?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. How else could +we—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. (<i>Interrupting him.</i>) +Excuse me, John.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. (<i>Subsiding.</i>) I beg +your pardon, James.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) All questions should be addressed +to me. My brother John is here <!-- Page 119 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_119" +name='Page_119'>[119]</a></span>solely to take charge of our +mother. We have done our best, by careful forethought, to ensure +that this painful interview shall be as brief and as dignified as +possible.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And couldn't you think of +anything cleverer than to give your poor mother her death of cold +for a start?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. How else could we have +arranged it? I myself rang at your door for a quarter of an hour +yesterday afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. We never heard you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Strange!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. No, it isn't. We took the +bell off three days ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. I was told that it was +impossible to effect an entrance in the ordinary way. Hence, we had +to use craft. I argued that food must come into the house, and that +it probably came in early.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, it's a good thing +for you I happened to hear the cat mewing, or you might have had +another couple of hours in my back yard. You're the eldest, I +suppose.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. We are twins.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Really!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. As you +say—really!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. I am the older, but the +difference between us is not considerable.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. Now, mother, please don't +cry.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Having poured out a +cup of tea, holds <!-- Page 120 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_120" name='Page_120'>[120]</a></span>it before</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.) Sugar? (<span +class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> +<i>signifies an affirmative</i>—<span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>drops sugar into cup, which</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>takes.</i>) You'll drink it +easier if you lift your veil.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Now, mother—you are +sure you recognise this gentleman?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. (<i>Not very +positively.</i>) Yes—yes. It's a rare long while....</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. He is your husband and our +father?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. (<i>More positively.</i>) +Yes. And sorry I am to say it. (<span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>eyes her carefully.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. I think that suffices. +(<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) Madam, you are in +a most unfortunate position. You supposed yourself to be a married +woman, whereas you are nothing of the kind. I needn't say that as +the victim of a heartless bigamist you have our deepest....</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Handing him a slice of +bread on toasting-fork.</i>) Just toast this for your mother, will +you, and mind the bars. I'll get another cup or two. (<i>Goes to +sideboard and gets crockery.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And so these are my two +sons! They show little emotion in beholding the author of their +being for the first time. As for me, I hardly recognise them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. And is it likely, seeing +they were born six months after you deserted me, Albert?</p> + +<p><!-- Page 121 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_121" +name='Page_121'>[121]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I see. If it isn't indiscreet, am I +a grandfather?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. (<i>Toasting.</i>) No, +sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I only wanted to know the +worst. Silly joke about the fertility of curates—you've met +with it, no doubt!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Your tone is simply +lamentable, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">James</span>.) Mind! You can do the other side. +Now, take care; the fire's very hot. (<i>In the same mild tone +to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.) Twenty-six years, you say?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. Yes. Albert was +twenty-two then, weren't you, Albert?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Undoubtedly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And how did you come to +find us out at last?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. It was through an +advertisement put in the paper by that Mr. Texel—him that's +in this law case—offering a reward for information about a +Mr. Albert Shawn who'd been valet to that artist man that died.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh! So Mr. Texel has been +advertising, has he? (<i>Giving a cup of tea to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">John</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. Yes, for anybody that +knew Albert Shawn when he was young. "Albert Shawn," I says, +"that's my husband's name." I'd been told he'd gone off in service +with a painter or something of that kind. I married him as a +valet.</p> + +<!-- Page 122 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_122" +name='Page_122'>[122]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Pouring out tea</i>.) +A valet?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. A valet, ma'am.... And +the struggle I've had to bring up my children. +(<i>Whimpering.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Now, mother!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stopping</i> <span +class="smallcaps">James</span>.) That will do now! Give it me. +(<i>Taking toast and fork</i>.) Here's some tea. Now don't pretend +you've never seen a cup of tea before—you a curate!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">James</span> <i>accepts tea</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. Yes, they <i>would</i> go +into the church, both of them! I don't know how we've managed it, +but managed it we have, surplices and all. And very happy they +were, I'm sure. And now there's this dreadful scandal. Oh, Albert, +you might at least have changed your name! I—I—— +(<i>Partially breaks down</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. Mother, I +beg——(<span class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>breaks down entirely</i>.) +Mother, I absolutely insist. You know you promised not to speak at +all except in answer to questions.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. I think, mother, you +really might try——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. Leave her to me! Now, +mother!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Loud double knock off</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">John</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.) There's the post! Just go and +bring me the letters in, will you? <!-- Page 123 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_123" +name='Page_123'>[123]</a></span>(<span +class="smallcaps">John</span> <i>hesitates</i>?) You'll find them +scattered about the floor in the hall. Don't miss any.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">John</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, R.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Mrs. Shawn</span> <i>recovers.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. And what do you propose to +do, madam?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Who has been +soothing</i> <span class="smallcaps">Mrs. Shawn</span>.) Me? What +about?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. About this—this +bigamy.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, nothing. What are you +thinking of doing?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">John</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span> <i>with post, which</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>takes and begins to +read.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Well, I suppose you're +aware that bigamy is a criminal offence?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. There's a police-station +in the Upper Richmond Road. Better call there. It'll be so nice for +you two, when you're flourishing about in the pulpit, to think of +your father in prison—won't it now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. We, of course, should not +prosecute. If you are prepared to go on living with this gentleman +as though nothing had happened—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh, I don't mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Well, then, I doubt if we +should interfere. <!-- Page 124 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_124" name='Page_124'>[124]</a></span>But Mr. Texel's +lawyers are already in communication with the police.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Stiffly.</i>) I see. +(<i>An awkward pause during which everybody except</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, <i>who is reading his post, looks +at everybody else.</i>) Well, then, I think that's about all, isn't +it? (<i>A shorter pause.</i>) Good-morning. (<i>She bows to the +curates, and shakes hands with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Mrs. +Shawn</span>.) (<i>To</i> <span class="smallcaps">Mrs.</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>.) Now do take care of yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Mrs. S</span>. (<i>Weakly.</i>) Thank +you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">John</span>. Good-morning. Mother, take +my arm, please.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">James</span>. Good-morning.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Albert, they're going.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Looking up absently +and only half rising, perfunctorily and quickly</i>) Good-morning. +Good-morning. (<i>Sits down.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">James</span> <span +class="smallcaps">Shawn</span>, <i>who is hovering near door L, +uncertain of his way out.</i>) <i>This</i> way, <i>this</i> +time!</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exeunt the</i> <span class="smallcaps">Shawns</span> +<i>followed by</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.)</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>rises and draws +curtains of window apart</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Cheerfully</i>) Oh, +it's quite light! (<i>Turns out gas.</i>)</p> + +<p><!-- Page 125 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_125" +name='Page_125'>[125]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Gazing at her.</i>) +Incomparable woman!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. So it's true after +all!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. What?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. All that rigmarole about +you being Ilam Carve?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. You're beginning to come +round at last?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I think they were +quite honest people—those three. There's no doubt the poor +creature once had a husband who <i>did</i> run off. And it seems +fairly clear his name was Albert Shawn, and he went away as valet +to an artist. But then, on the other hand, if there is one thing +certain in this world, it is that you were never married before you +married me. That I <i>will</i> swear to.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And yet she identified me. +She was positive.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Positive? That's just what +she wasn't! And didn't you notice the queer way she looked at you +as they went out? As much as to say, "I wonder now whether it +<i>is</i> him—after all?"</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Then you really think she +could be mistaken on such a point?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Pooh! After twenty-six +years. Besides, all men of forty-seven look more or less alike.... +And so I'm the wife of Ilam Carve <!-- Page 126 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_126" +name='Page_126'>[126]</a></span>that's supposed to be buried in +Westminster Abbey and royalty went to his funeral! We'll have some +tea ourselves. I say, why did you do it? (<i>Pours out +tea.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Casually.</i>) I don't +know. It was to save worry to begin with, and then it went on by +itself and somehow I couldn't stop it.... I don't know!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Endearingly.</i>) +Well, I've always told you frankly you've got a bee in your bonnet. +(<i>Drinking tea and turning over the post.</i>) More letters from +these newspaper people! What's this lovely crest on this +envelope?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. It's from Lord Leonard +Alcar. He says if we'll go up and see him to-morrow afternoon he'll +be very much obliged indeed, and he may be able to be of assistance +to us.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Deeply impressed.</i>) +Lord Leonard Al ... Where's the letter? (<i>Searches for it +hurriedly. As she reads it.</i>) Well I never! (<i>Reading</i>) +"And Mrs. Shawn." I've got nothing to go in.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh, I shan't go!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Why not?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, what about this trip +to the Continent?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Continent fiddlesticks. +I've never been asked to go and see a Lord before....</p> + +<p><!-- Page 127 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_127" +name='Page_127'>[127]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Now listen, Jane. What earthly good +can it do? I shan't go.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I shall. So there! Six +Dukes in the family! I wouldn't miss it for anything.</p> + +<div class="centerme"><b>CURTAIN.</b></div> + +<!-- Page 128 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_128" +name='Page_128'>[128]</a></span> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a id="ACT_IV" name='ACT_IV'></a> +<h2>ACT IV</h2> + +<h3>SCENE I</h3> + +<br /> + + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar's</span> <i>study, +Grosvenor Gardens. Door, back centre. Door</i>, L. <span +class="smallcaps">Janet's</span> <i>portrait is conspicuous on a +wall.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Time</span>.—<i>The next +afternoon.</i></p> + +<div class="smalldiv"><span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard +Alcar</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Mr. Texel</span> +<i>are coming into the room from door at back.</i></div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. You still go on +collecting, Mr. Texel?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Uncertain of his +steps.</i>) Well, yes. I've been amusing myself with pictures for +pretty nigh forty years. Why should I deprive myself of this +pleasure merely because my eyesight's gone?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Why, indeed! You have the +true collecting spirit. Permit me (<i>directs Texel's hand to +chair</i>).</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Thanks, I'm on to it +(<i>Sitting down.</i>) My sight's going steadily worse, but there +are still a few things that I can make out pretty clearly, Lord +Leonard. Motor omnibuses, cathedrals, English easy-chairs....</p> + +<p><!-- Page 129 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_129" +name='Page_129'>[129]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Well, I'm charmed to find you in +such good spirits, and really I feel very grateful to you for +accepting my invitation.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Delighted to make your +acquaintance, sir. Two old collectors like us—rivals at +Christie's. I wonder how many times I've cabled over instructions +to my agent to smash you at any cost. Delighted to meet you, Lord +Leonard.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. We ought to have met +earlier, Mr. Texel. Now I've got you here, I must tell you I've +ventured to invite one or two—er—kindred spirits to +meet you.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Servant</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Servant</span>. Mr. Ebag.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>.)</p> + +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Servant</span>).</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. How d'you do, Ebag?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. My lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Let me introduce you to +Mr. Texel. Mr. Texel, this is Mr. Ebag.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Surprised—aside +to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar</span>.) This one +of your kindred spirits?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Also surprised</i>?) +Mr. Texel!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Holding out his hand +towards</i> <span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>, <i>who takes +it</i>.) Well, Mr. Ebag, I've made a special journey to Europe to +get a verdict from an English court that you've done me up for +<!-- Page 130 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_130" +name='Page_130'>[130]</a></span>about thirty thousand dollars, and +if I get it I'll do my level best afterwards to see you safe into +prison; but in the meantime I'm very glad to meet you. I feel sure +you're one of the right sort, whatever you are.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. You flatter me, Mr. Texel. +The gladness is mutual.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Servant</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Servant</span>. Mr. Cyrus Carve. Mr. and +Mrs. X.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. <i>She +hesitates in doorway.</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard +Alcar</span> <i>goes to meet her.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You Lord Alcar?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I am Lord Leonard +Alcar?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. My mistake! (<i>They shake +hands.</i>) But why does this young man call me Mrs. X. I told him +<i>Carve</i>, plain enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Did he? A slip—a +slip! You've brought your husband?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes, but not so easily as +all that. I'm afraid he's quarrelling out there with Mr. Cyrus +Carve. They get across one another on the stairs.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Tut-tut. Excuse me one +moment.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Exit hurriedly.</i>)</p> + +<p>(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Servant</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Mr. Ebag! So you're here +too! Why, it's a family party.</p> + +<p><!-- Page 131 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_131" +name='Page_131'>[131]</a></span><span +class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Astounded.</i>) How do you do, +Mrs. Shawn? I beg pardon, Mrs. Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. It seems I'm Mrs. X +now—didn't you hear?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I expect the servant had +received instructions. His lordship has a great reputation for wit, +you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Looking round.</i>) +And what's this room supposed to be?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Oh, the study, +probably.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Really! Not what you'd +call 'homely,' is it? Rather like being on the stage.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar</span>, +<i>leading</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>on his right +and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> <i>on his left. +Servant closes door from without.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Now we're all safely here, +and I fancy there will be enough easy-chairs to go round. Mr. +Texel, you already know Mr. Cyrus Carve, and you will be pleased to +meet the talented artist who painted the pictures which you have +been buying from Mr. Ebag. He has most kindly consented to be +called Mr. X for the moment. This is Mrs. X, Mr. Texel.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>They bow</i>—<span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> +<i>shakes hands with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>.) How d'you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. How d'you do?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. How d'you do?</p> + +<!-- Page 132 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_132" +name='Page_132'>[132]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Observing that these +three are already acquainted.</i>) Good! Excellent! Now, +Mrs.—er—X, will you have this chair near the fire? +(<i>Fixes chair for her.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Indicating</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>, <i>aside to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>.) Good looking?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Aside to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Texel</span>.) Very agreeable little thing!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Excellent! Excellent!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Interrupting a gesture +from</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) You have all done +me a signal favour by coming here. In thanking you, I wonder if I +may ask another favour. May I?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Certainly. Among kindred +spirits.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Assuredly, my lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I would merely request you +to control so far as possible any expression of your astonishment +at meeting one another here. That is to say, any violent +expression.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Gaily and +carelessly.</i>) Oh, very well! Very well!</p> + +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar</span> <i>waves the +rest of the company into chairs, tactfully separating</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>as much as possible. He remains +standing himself.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I suppose what you really +want is to stop this funny trial from coming on.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Slightly taken +aback.</i>) Mrs. X, I congratulate myself on your presence here. +Yes, <!-- Page 133 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_133" +name='Page_133'>[133]</a></span>my ambition is to be peacemaker. Of +course a peacemaker always runs the risk of a broken head, but I +shall entrust my head to your good nature. As a proof that I really +mean business, I need only point out that I haven't invited a +single lawyer.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>After slight +pause.</i>) This is exceedingly good of your lordship.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. For myself I'm rather +looking forward to next week. I've spared no expense to get up a +first-class show. Half the papers in New York and Chicago are +sending over special correspondents. I've even secured your +champion humorous judge; and altogether I reckon this trial will be +about the greatest judicial proposition the British public's seen +in years. Still, I'm always ready to oblige—and I'll shake +hands right now, on terms—my terms.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. We are making +progress.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. But what I don't +understand is—where <i>you</i> come in, Lord Leonard.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Where I come in?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Well, I don't want to be +personal, but is this Hague Conference merely your hobby, or are +you standing in with somebody?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I quite appreciate your +delicacy. Let me assure you that, though it gives me the greatest +pleasure to see you all, I have not <!-- Page 134 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_134" +name='Page_134'>[134]</a></span>selected you as the victims of a +hobby. Nor have I anything whatever to gain by stopping the trial. +The reverse. At the trial I should probably have a seat on the +bench next to a delightful actress, and I should enjoy the case +very much indeed. I have no doubt that even now the learned judge +is strenuously preparing his inimitable flashes of humour, and +that, like the rest of the world, I should allow myself to be +convulsed by them. I like to think of four K.C.'s toiling hard for +a miserable hundred guineas a day each. I like to think of the +solicitors, good, honest fellows, striving their best to keep the +costs as low as possible. I even like to think of the jury with +their powerful intellects who, when we are dead and gone, Mr. +Texel, will tell their grandchildren proudly how they decided the +famous case of Texel <i>v.</i> Ebag. Above all, I like to think of +the witnesses revelling in their cross-examination. Nobody will be +more sorry than I to miss this grand spectacle of the greatest +possible number of the greatest possible brains employed for the +greatest possible length of time in settling a question that an +average grocer's assistant could settle in five minutes. I am +human. <i>But</i>, I have been approached—I have been +flattered by the suggestion—that I might persuade you two +gentlemen to abandon the <!-- Page 135 --><span class="newpage"><a +id="Page_135" name='Page_135'>[135]</a></span>trial, and I may +whisper to you that the abandonment of the trial would afford +satisfaction in—er—influential quarters.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Then are we up against the +British Government? Well, go ahead.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Protesting with a very +courteous air of extreme astonishment.</i>) My dear Mr. Texel, how +can I have been so clumsy as to convey such an idea? The +Government? Not in the least—not in the <i>least</i>. On +behalf of nobody whatever. (<i>Confidentially.</i>) I am merely in +a position to inform you positively that an amicable settlement of +the case would be viewed with satisfaction in influential +quarters.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, I can tell you it +would be viewed with satisfaction in a certain street in Putney. +But influential quarters—what's it got to do with them?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I shall be quite frank +with you. The dignity of Westminster Abbey is involved in this +case, and nothing in all England is more sacred to us than +Westminster Abbey. One has only to pronounce the word "the +Abbey"—to realize that. We know what a modern trial is; we +know what the modern press is; and, unhappily, we know what the +modern bench is. It is impossible to contemplate with equanimity +the prospect of Westminster Abbey and its solemnities being +<!-- Page 136 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_136" +name='Page_136'>[136]</a></span>given up to the tender mercy of the +evening papers and a joking judge surrounded by millinery. Such an +exhibition would be unseemly. It would soil our national existence. +In a word, it would have a bad effect.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. +(<i>Meditatively—bland.</i>) How English! (<i>He gets up and +walks unobtrusively about the room, examining the +pictures.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Undoubtedly. But this is +England. It is perhaps a disadvantage that we are not in Russia nor +in Prussia. But we must make the best of our miserable country. +(<i>In a new tone, showing the orator skilled in changes of +voice.</i>) Can't we discuss our little affair in a friendly way +entirely without prejudice? We are together here, among +gentlemen—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I'm afraid you're +forgetting me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Recovering +himself.</i>) Madam, I am convinced that none of us can be more +gentlemanly than yourself.... Can we not find a way of settlement? +(<i>With luxurious enjoyment of the idea.</i>) Imagine the fury of +all those lawyers and journalists when they learn that +we—er—if I may so express it—have done them in +the eye!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. If I wasn't going to come +out on top, I could understand you worrying about your old Abbey. +But I'm taking the part of your Abbey. When I win <i>it</i> wins, +and I'm certain to win.</p> + +<!-- Page 137 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_137" +name='Page_137'>[137]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I do not +doubt——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>With suave +assurance</i>.) But I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Continuing</i>.) I do +not doubt your conviction, Mr. Texel. It merely proves that you +have never seen a British Jury exercising itself upon a question +relating to the fine arts. If you had you would not be certain, for +you would know that twelve tradesmen so occupied are capable of +accomplishing the most incredible marvels. Supposing you don't +win—supposing Mr. Ebag wins——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. As I assuredly shall.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Then we should have the +whole world saying, "Well, they haven't given a national funeral to +a really great artist for about a century, and when at last they do +try they only succeed in burying a valet."</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Looking round +casually</i>.) England all over!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. The effect would be +lamentable—utterly lamentable. You will realize that in +influential quarters——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. But do you reckon this +policy of hushing up things ever does any good?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. My dear sir, it is the +corner-stone of England's greatness. It is the policy that has made +her what she is!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Looking round +again</i>.) True! What she <i>is</i>!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Turning sharply to</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>behind +<!-- Page 138 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_138" +name='Page_138'>[138]</a></span>him</i>.) Mr. X, your interest in +my picture flatters me immensely——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Interrupting him</i>.) +I see you've bought my latest portrait of my wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Starting up</i>.) +What's that? (<i>She goes to inspect picture</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I suppose it would be +abusing your hospitality to inquire how much you paid our excellent +dealer for it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Not in the least. But the +fact is we haven't yet settled the price. The exact price is to +depend on the result of our gathering.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, if anybody had told +me I should find my own portrait—cooking-sleeves and +all——</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>Inarticulate—she returns to her chair</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. And now that we have got +so far, Mr. X, I should like to centralize the attention of this +quite friendly gathering on yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Approaching +airily</i>.) Really! (<i>He sits</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. There are several +questions we might discuss. For example, we might argue the +artistic value of the pictures admittedly the work of Mr. X. That +would probably occupy us for about ten years. Or we might ask +<!-- Page 139 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_139" +name='Page_139'>[139]</a></span>ourselves how it happened that that +exceedingly astute dealer, Mr. Ebag, came to sell as a genuine Ilam +Carve, without offering any explanation, a picture which, on the +face of it, was painted some time after that great painter had +received a national funeral in Westminster Abbey.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Sheer carelessness, my +lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Or we might ask ourselves +why a valet should try to pass himself off as a world-renowned +artist. Or, on the other hand, why a world-renowned artist should +pass himself off as a valet.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Sheer carelessness, my +lord.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. But these details of +psychology are beside the main point. And the main point is +(<i>to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>)—Are you Ilam +Carve or are you Albert Shawn? (<i>To the others</i>.) Surely with +a little goodwill and unembarrassed by the assistance of experts, +lawyers, and wigs generally, we can settle that! And once it is +settled the need for a trial ceases. (<span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>assumes an elaborately +uninterested air</i>.) The main point does not seem to interest +you, Mr. X.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Seeming to start</i>.) +I beg your pardon. No, not profoundly. Why should it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Yet you +claim——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Excuse me. I claim nothing +except to be let alone. Certainly I do not ask to be +<!-- Page 140 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_140" +name='Page_140'>[140]</a></span>accepted as Ilam Carve. I was +leading a placid and agreeable existence in a place called Putney, +an ideal existence with a pearl among women, when my tranquillity +was disturbed and my life transformed into a perfect nightmare by a +quarrel between a retail trades-man (<i>indicating</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>) and a wholesale ink-dealer +(<i>indicating</i> <span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>) about one +of my pictures. It does not concern me. My role is and will be +passive. If I am forced into the witness-box I shall answer +questions to the worst of my ability, and I shall do no more. I am +not cross. I am not sulking; but I consider that I have a +grievance. If I am here, it is solely because my wife does what she +likes with me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Bravo! This is as good as +the trial.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Good-humouredly</i>.) +Will you answer questions here?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Good-humouredly</i>.) +It depends.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Do you assert that you are +Ilam Carve?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I assert nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. <i>Are you</i> Ilam +Carve?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Yes, but I don't want to +be.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Might I inquire why you +allowed your servant to be buried in your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, he always did +everything for me—a most useful man.... But I didn't 'allow' +him to be buried in my name. On the <!-- Page 141 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_141" +name='Page_141'>[141]</a></span>contrary, I told various people +that I was not dead—but strange to say, nobody would believe +me. My handsome, fascinating cousin here wouldn't even let me begin +to tell him. Even my wife wouldn't believe me, so I gave it up.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Texel</span> <i>does not conceal his +enjoyment of the scene</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Grimly</i>.) Which +wife?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>twiddles his +thumbs</i>.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. But do you +mean——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. May I interrupt, Lord +Leonard? I could listen for hours to this absolutely stupendous +gentleman. A circus is nothing to it. But aren't we jumping the +track? I've got two witnesses. Mr. Cyrus Carve will swear that your +Mr. X is <i>not</i> his cousin. And the original Mrs. Albert Shawn +will swear that he <i>is</i> her husband. That's my case. How is my +esteemed opponent going to answer it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. In the first place, have +you cross-examined this very original Mrs. Albert Shawn?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Come. You don't mean to +argue that a woman could mistake another man for her own +husband—even after twenty-five years or so?</p> + +<!-- Page 142 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_142" +name='Page_142'>[142]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Smiling apologetically +for his freedom</i>.) According to the divorce reports, they're +constantly doing it after one year, to say nothing of +twenty-five.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Appreciative</i>.) +Good! That's good! Well, I may tell you right here that I had an +interview with this gentleman's (<i>indicating</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>) ecclesiastical twins only yesterday +afternoon, and they assure me that their mother is positive on the +point.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Meditatively</i>.) +Simpletons!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I beg pardon.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I daresay they preach very +nicely, but out of the pulpit they don't what I should call shine, +poor boys! Anybody could see she wasn't positive. Why, it wasn't +until the old lady dropped in to have a cup of tea with us that I +felt sure my husband's name really <i>was</i> Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Then you hadn't credited +his story before?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Well, it wanted some +crediting, didn't it?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>With intention</i>.) +You only began to credit it after Mr. Ebag had called and paid you +the sum of £500 in cash.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>After a slight pause, +calmly</i>.) Oh! So you know about that, do you?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>, <i>genially</i>.) Cousin, if you +continue in that strain I shall have to take <!-- Page 143 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_143" +name='Page_143'>[143]</a></span>you out on to the doormat and +assault you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I should like to +say——</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Interrupting +grimly</i>.) Lord Leonard, isn't it time that this ceased?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Heartily amused</i>.) +But why? I'm enjoying every minute of it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I should be sorry to +interfere with Mr. Texel's amusement, but I think the moment has +now come for me to make a disclosure. When I was approached as to +this affair I consulted Mr. Cyrus Carve first, he being the sole +surviving relative of his cousin. That seemed to me to be the +natural and proper course to adopt. Mr. Cyrus Carve gave me a very +important piece of information, and it is solely on the strength of +that information that I have invited you all to come here this +afternoon. (<i>He looks at</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Clearing his throat, +to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Of course, you'll argue that after +thirty-five years absence it's a wise man that can recognize his +own cousin. I'm absolutely convinced in my own mind that you +(<i>scorn-fully to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>) are +not my cousin. But then, you'll tell me that men have been hung +before now on the strength of sworn identification that proved +afterwards to be mistaken. I admit it. I admit that in theory I may +be <!-- Page 144 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_144" +name='Page_144'>[144]</a></span>wrong. (<i>With increased grim +sarcasm.</i>) I admit that in theory the original Mrs. Shawn may be +wrong. Everything's possible, especially with a bully of a K.C. +cross-examining you, and a judge turning you into 'copy' for +<i>Punch</i>. But I've got something up my sleeve that will settle +the whole affair instantly, to the absolute satisfaction of both +plaintiff and defendant.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. My dear fellow, why not +have told us this exciting news earlier?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Why not? (<i>Glowering +at</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Because I wanted you +to commit yourself completely beyond any withdrawing. I decided +what sort of man you were the moment I first set eyes on you, and +when I heard of this law case, I said to myself that I'd come +forward as a witness, but I shouldn't give any evidence away in +advance. I said to myself I'd show you up once and for all in full +court. However, his lordship prevailed on me.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. When my cousin and I were +boys I've seen him with his shirt off.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. True. And he's seen you +with <i>yours</i> off.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Now just here (<i>pointing +to left front neck below collar</i>), just below his collar, my +cousin Ilam Carve had two moles close together—one +<!-- Page 145 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_145" +name='Page_145'>[145]</a></span>was hairy and the other wasn't. My +cousin was very proud of them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Ferociously +sarcastic.</i>) I suppose you'll say you've had them removed?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Casually.</i>) No. Not +precisely.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Can you show them?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Very casually.</i>) Of +course.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. (<i>Slapping his +knee.</i>) Great! Great!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Staggered but +obstinate.</i>) Well, let's have a look at them.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) Then doubtless you are familiar +with this double phenomenon, Mrs. X?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Yes. But he isn't so proud +of his moles now as he used to be when he was a boy.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Now, gentlemen, you see +how beautifully clear the situation is. By one simple act we shall +arrive at a definite and final result, and we shall have avoided +all the noise and scandal of a public trial. Mr. X, will you oblige +us very much by taking your collar off?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Jumping up.</i>) +Please, there's just one little thing. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Wait a moment, dear. (<i>To</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>.) Mr. Ebag, how many of those +pictures did you sell to Mr. Texel?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Fifteen.</p> + +<!-- Page 146 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_146" +name='Page_146'>[146]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. And you made a profit of +over four hundred pounds on each?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. +(<i>Boisterously—laughing to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>.) You did?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Fifteen times four +hundred—that makes—how much does it make?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Six thousand, madam. +Thirty thousand dollars. Great!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>.) Don't you think we deserve some of +that, as it were?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. Madam, I shall be delighted +to pay you five thousand four hundred pounds. That will be +equivalent to charging you a nominal commission of ten per +cent.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Thank you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I won't touch a penny of +their wretched money.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Sweetly.</i>) I +wouldn't dream of asking you to, dearest. <i>I</i> shall touch it. +Goodness knows what street we shall be in after this +affair—and with my brewery shares gone simply all to pieces! +Now, dearest, you can take it off. (<i>She resumes her +seat.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Lightly.</i>) I'm +hanged if I do!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. But, my dear Mr. X!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Lightly.</i>) I'm +dashed if I take my collar off.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Triumphant.</i>) Ha! I +knew it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Why should I offer my skin +to the inspection of two individuals in whom I +<!-- Page 147 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_147" +name='Page_147'>[147]</a></span>haven't the slightest interest? +They've quarrelled about me, but is that a reason why I should +undress myself? Let me say again, I've no desire whatever to prove +that I am Ilam Carve.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. But surely to oblige us +immensely, Mr. X, you will consent to give just one extra +performance of an operation which, in fact, you accomplish three +hundred and sixty-five times every year without any disastrous +results.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. I don't look at it like +that. Already my fellow-citizens, expressing their conviction that +I was a great artist, have buried me in Westminster Abbey—not +<i>because</i> I was a great artist, but because I left a couple of +hundred thousand pounds for a public object. And now my +fellow-citizens, here assembled, want me to convince them that I am +a great artist by taking my collar off. I won't do it. I simply +will not do it. It's too English. If any person wishes to be +convinced that I'm an artist and not a mountebank, let him look at +my work (<i>pointing vaguely to a picture</i>), because that's all +the proof that I mean to offer. If he is blind or shortsighted I +regret it, but my neck isn't going to help him.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Brilliant! Then we shall +have the trial after all.</p> + +<!-- Page 148 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_148" +name='Page_148'>[148]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. Yes, but your brilliant +friend will be on his way to South America before then.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Sweetly to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>.) I assure you it's quite true about +those moles. That's why he wears those collars.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Grimly.</i>) No +doubt.... (<i>Repeating.</i>) Nevertheless he'll be on his way to +South America.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Gaily.</i>) Or +Timbuctoo.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. (<i>Significantly.</i>) +Unless you're stopped.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. And who's going to stop +me? All the laws of this country added together can't make me take +my collar off if I don't want to.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. What about arresting you +for bigamy? What about Holloway? I fancy at Holloway they have a +short method with people who won't take their collars off.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. Well, that will only be +another proof that the name of this island is England. It will be +telegraphed to the Continent that in order to prove to herself that +she possessed a great artist, England had to arrest him for bigamy +and shove him into prison.... Characteristic! Characteristic!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Who has moved across +to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) Mrs. X, can +you—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Rising to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>, <i>winningly.</i>) Now—Ilam. +You're only laying up trouble for yourself, and for me too. Do +please think of the trial. You know how shy you are, and how +<!-- Page 149 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_149" +name='Page_149'>[149]</a></span>you tremble at the mere thought of +a witness-box.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Cyrus</span>. I can believe it.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Smiling at</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) I've got past shyness. I think it +was the visit of my fine stalwart sons yesterday that cured me of +shyness. I doubt if I shall ever be shy any more.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Appealingly.</i>) +Dearest, to please me!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Curt now for the first +time, with a flash of resentment.</i>) No.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>After a slight pause; +hurt and startled; with absolute conviction, to</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar</span>.) It's no use. He's +made up his mind.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I have an idea that I can +persuade—</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Hotly.</i>) Excuse me. +You can't.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. I have an idea I can. But +(<i>hesitates</i>) the fact is, not in the presence of ladies.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Oh. If that's +all—(<i>walks away in a huff.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span>.) My deepest apologies.</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar</span> <i>shows</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>out.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Texel</span>. Well, well! What now?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) You remember Lady Alice +Rowfant?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>Taken aback.</i>) That +doesn't concern you.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Ebag</span>. (<i>Ignoring this +answer.</i>) Pardon me if I <!-- Page 150 --><span +class="newpage"><a id="Page_150" +name='Page_150'>[150]</a></span>speak plainly. You were once +engaged to marry Lady Alice Rowfant. But a few days before your +valet died you changed your mind and left her in the lurch in +Spain. Lady Alice Rowfant is now in England. She has been served +with a subpoena to give evidence at the trial. And if the trial +comes on she will have to identify you and tell her story in court. +(<i>Pause.</i>) Are you going to put her to this humiliation?</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>walks about. Then he +gives a gesture of surrender.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. The artist is always +beaten! (<i>With an abrupt movement he pulls undone the bow of his +necktie.</i>)</p> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<i>The stage is darkened to indicate the passage of a few +minutes.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>SCENE 2</h3> + +<div class="smalldiv"> +<p>(<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>is attempting to re-tie +his necktie.</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard Alcar</span> +<i>is coming away from door back.</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Janet</span> <i>enters from door</i>, L.)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Under emotion, to</i> +<span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Then you've done it! (<span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>ignores her.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Yes, and <i>I</i> feel +like a dentist.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. You've sent them all +away.</p> + +<!-- Page 151 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_151" +name='Page_151'>[151]</a></span> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I thought you'd like me +to. Mr. Ebag took charge of Mr. Texel. Your cousin Cyrus was +extremely upset.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. What did she say?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Who say?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Lady Alice Rowfant, of +course. Oh! You needn't pretend! As soon as Mr. Ebag asked me to go +out I knew he'd got her up his sleeve. (<i>Weeps slightly.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. (<i>Very +sympathetically.</i>) My dear young lady, what is the matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Her utterance +disturbed by sobs—indicating</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) He'd do it for her, but he +wouldn't do it for me!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. I assure you, Lady Alice +Rowfant has not been here.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. Honest?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. No. The mere mention of +her name was sufficient.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. That's even worse! +(<i>Rushing across to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span> +<i>and pettishly seizing his necktie.</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span> <i>submits.</i>) Here! Let me do +it—for goodness sake! Great clumsy! (<i>Still +tearful—to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lord Leonard +Alcar</span> <i>as she ties the necktie.</i>) Somehow I don't mind +crying in front of you, because you're so nice and fatherly.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Well, if I'm so fatherly, +may I venture on a little advice to you two? (<i>To</i> <span +class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) You said you didn't want to be +Ilam Carve. <!-- Page 152 --><span class="newpage"><a id="Page_152" +name='Page_152'>[152]</a></span><i>Don't</i> be Ilam Carve. Let +Ilam Carve continue his theoretical repose in the Abbey and you +continue to be somebody else. It will save a vast amount of +trouble, and nobody will be a penny the worse. Leave +England—unobtrusively. If you feel homesick, arrange to come +back during a general election, and you will be absolutely +unnoticed. You have money. If you need more, I can dispose of as +many new pictures as you like to send.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I don't want him to paint +any more pictures.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. But he will.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. I suppose he will. Why is +it? As if we hadn't had enough bother already through this art +business!</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Alcar</span>. Yes. But artists are like +that, you know.</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Janet</span>. (<i>Affectionately +reproachful to</i> <span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>.) Child! +Look how nicely I've tied it for you. (<i>Shakes him.</i>) Whatever +are you dreaming about?</p> + +<p><span class="smallcaps">Carve</span>. (<i>After glancing in +mirror reflectively.</i>) There's only one question. Last time they +buried me in the Abbey,—what will they do with me next +time?</p> + +<div class="centerme"><b>CURTAIN.</b></div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<!-- Transcriber's note: This ad was originally the first page in the book.--> + + +<h5>WORKS BY ARNOLD BENNETT</h5> + +<div class="centerme"> +<table class="tinytable" summary="Works by Arnold Bennett"> +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>NOVELS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>A MAN FROM THE +NORTH</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>ANNA OF THE FIVE +TOWNS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>LEONORA</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>A GREAT MAN</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>SACRED AND PROFANE +LOVE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>WHOM GOD HATH +JOINED</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>BURIED ALIVE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE OLD WIVES' +TALE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE GLIMPSE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>HELEN WITH THE HIGH +HAND</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>CLAYHANGER</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE CARD</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>HILDA LESSWAYS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>FANTASIAS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE GRAND BABYLON +HOTEL</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE GATES OF WRATH</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>TERESA OF WATLING +STREET</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE LOOT OF CITIES</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>HUGO</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE GHOST</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE CITY OF +PLEASURE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>SHORT STORIES</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>TALES OF THE FIVE +TOWNS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE GRIM SMILE OF THE FIVE +TOWNS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE MATADOR OF THE FIVE +TOWNS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>BELLES-LETTRES</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>JOURNALISM FOR +WOMEN</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>FAME AND FICTION</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>HOW TO BECOME AN +AUTHOR</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE TRUTH ABOUT AN +AUTHOR</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE REASONABLE +LIFE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>HOW TO LIVE ON TWENTY-FOUR +HOURS A DAY</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE HUMAN MACHINE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>LITERARY TASTE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE FEAST OF ST. +FRIEND</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THOSE UNITED +STATES</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>DRAMA</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>POLITE FARCES</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>CUPID AND COMMON +SENSE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>WHAT THE PUBLIC +WANTS</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE HONEYMOON</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>MILESTONES (In collaboration +with <span class="smallcaps">Edward</span> KNOBLAUCH)</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>(In collaboration with EDEN +PHILLPOTTS)</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE SINEWS OF WAR: A +ROMANCE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td><span style='margin-left: 1em;'>THE STATUE: A +ROMANCE</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> + +<h5> </h5> +<hr class="full" /> +</div> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13894 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |