JANET. You said I didn't really believe after all that you are Ilam Carve, and I a.s.sured you in the most soothing manner that I did believe you are Ilam Carve!

CARVE. 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 don't 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.

JANET. But what does it matter?

CARVE. (Cold and hard.) Well, I like that!

JANET. (Weeping.) 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.

CARVE. (Jumping up and embracing her.) Hush, hush! There!

(Cajolingly.) Who's being an infant now?

JANET. I don't pretend to understand this art.

CARVE. 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?

JANET. (Smiling reconciliation.) Darling, do turn the gas up.

CARVE. (Obeying, struck by her attire.) Why--what are you dressed like that for?

JANET. I was thinking of going away.

(Exit, L.)

(She re-enters immediately with kettle and puts it on fire.)

CARVE. Going away?

JANET. (Smiling.) 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 will be in this morning's papers.

CARVE. (Trying to make light of it.) Oh, nothing will upset me now.

But you might let me know at once if the editor of the Spectator calls round with the bread.

JANET. And I'll tell you another thing. That Mr. Horning--you know the breathless man on the Evening Courier that came to the Grand Babylon--he's taken lodgings opposite--arrived last night.

CARVE. Oh, for a machine gun--one simple little machine gun!

(Exit JANET, L.)

She immediately returns with a tray containing bread, etc., and a toasting-fork.

JANET. So I thought if we just vanished--

CARVE. It's too late--I've had the subpoena. If I hooked it, everybody would say I was an adventurer.

JANET. We could come back for the trial.

CARVE. We should be followed.

JANET. Not if we start now.

CARVE. Now?

JANET. Yes, now! The back door. Before it gets light.

CARVE. Creep away in the dark! No! I'll go through with the thing.

JANET. 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.

CARVE. Jane!

JANET. Well!

CARVE. You're taking an unfair advantage of me.

JANET. (Putting tea leaves in teapot.) What if I am?

CARVE. You're only a woman after all.... And I'd thought so highly of you!

JANET. (Sweetly.) Then you'll come. Better brush yourself up first.

CARVE. What time is it?

JANET. (Looking at clock.) Seven o'clock.

CARVE. Where do you mean to drag me to?

JANET. Well, what about this Continent of yours that I've heard so much of?

CARVE. There's a train from Victoria at 8.30.

JANET. Very well then. We'll have another breakfast at Victoria.

CARVE. And the cab?

JANET. There isn't going to be any cab--nor luggage--rousing the whole street! (CARVE goes to window.) For goodness' sake don't draw those curtains--with the gas flaring up!

CARVE. Why not?

JANET. (Conspiratorial.) Supposing there's some journalist on the watch outside!

CARVE. I wanted to look at the weather.

JANET. Well, go to the front door, and mind you open it quietly.

(Exit CARVE, R.)

(JANET pours water on tea.)