JANET. (Handing him the paper, then putting her head close to his and looking at the paper.) What was it he was reading that made him so deaf he couldn't hear his wife when she spoke to him?

CARVE. This.

JANET. (Reading.) "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?

CARVE. Yes, they've begun it at last.

JANET. Well, if you ask me, I should have thought he could have found something better to do with his money.

CARVE. As for example?

JANET. 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 National Gallery, then I shall begin to think it's about time we had some more galleries. If I'd been Ilam Carve----

CARVE. Well, what should you have done, witch?

JANET. I should have left a bit more to you, for one thing.

CARVE. 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.

JANET. Money has, when you haven't got enough.

CARVE. 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.

JANET. And supposing I had to ask you to pay more?

CARVE. (In a serious sympathetic tone, startled.) Anything wrong?

JANET. Well, there's nothing wrong, as it were--yet----

CARVE. Jane, I do believe you've been hiding something from me.

JANET. (With difficulty pulls a letter from her pocket.) No--

CARVE. I've felt it for several days.

JANET. You just haven't then. Because I only got it this morning. Here, you may as well read it. (Handing him the letter.) It's about the brewery.

CARVE. (Reading.) "Mrs. Albert Shawn. Sir or Madam."--Why are shareholders never supposed to have any particular s.e.x?--"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 pa.s.sed or much reduced, the committee wishes to be thoroughly prepared and armed. Believe me, Sir or Madam." Oh! So that's it, is it?

JANET. 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!

(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.)

CARVE. (Lightly.) Oh, well! We must wait and see what happens.

JANET. Supposing the dividend doesn't happen?

CARVE. I never worry about money.

JANET. But we shall want to eat once or twice pretty nearly every day, I suppose?

CARVE. Personally, I am quite satisfied with a plain but perfect table.

JANET. You needn't tell me what you are satisfied with. You're satisfied with the very best at one shilling and sixpence a pound.

CARVE. I can place eighty pounds per annum at your absolute disposal.

That alone will pay for over a thousand best cuts.

JANET. 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 hundred and eighty is more like what we want.

CARVE. And yet you have several times taken your Bible oath that my half-share of it all came to less than forty pounds.

JANET. Well--er--I was thinking of food. (She begins to collect the breakfast things.)

CARVE. Jane, you have been a deceitful thing. But never mind. I will draw a veil over this sinful past. Let us a.s.sume 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.

JANET. And where shall you get the extra hundred?

CARVE. I shall earn it.

JANET. No, you don't. I won't have you taking any more situations.

CARVE. I shall earn it here.

JANET. How?

CARVE. Painting!

JANET. (Stopping her work and coming towards him, half-caressing and half-chiding.) I don't mind 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 buy these things (pointing vaguely to picture on chair), do you?

No; there's far too many amateur artists about for that!

CARVE. 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.

JANET. 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.

CARVE. Yes, I was looking for it the other day, and I couldn't find it.

JANET. I'm not surprised. Because it's sold.

CARVE. Sold? (Excited.) What in the name of----

JANET. (Soothing him.) Now--now! Do you remember you said Ilam Carve would have got 1000 for a thing just like that?

CARVE. So he would. It was absolutely characteristic.

JANET. 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 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.