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. 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.

JANET. (Staggered.) And whatever does he do with them?

CARVE. With the pictures? Don't know. I've never seen one in his window.
I haven't been selling him any lately.

JANET. Why?

CARVE. Oh, I didn't feel like it. And the things were getting too good.
But, of course, I can start again any time.

JANET. (Still staggered.) Two pounds a piece? (CARVE nods.) Would he
give you two pounds for that? (Pointing to portrait.)

CARVE. You bet he would.

JANET. Why! Two pounds would keep us for the best part of a week. How
long does it take you to do one?

(Noise of motor car outside.)

CARVE. Oh, three or four hours. I work pretty quickly.

JANET. Well, it's like a fairy tale. Two pounds! I don't know whether
I'm standing on my head or my heels!

(Violent ringing at front door bell.)

CARVE. There's one of your tradesmen.

JANET. It isn't. They know better than come to my front door. They know
I won't have it.

(Exit, throwing off apron.)

(CARVE examines the portrait of his wife with evident pleasure.)

CARVE. (To himself.) That 'ud make 'em sit up in Bond Street. (Laughs
grimly.)

(Voices off. Re-enter JANET, followed by EBAG carrying a
picture.)

JANET. 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. (She calmly
conceals her apron.)

EBAG. (With diplomatic caution and much deference.) Good-morning.

CARVE. (Whose entire demeanour has suddenly changed into hostility.)
Good-morning.

EBAG. I've been buying some very delightful little things of yours from
a man that calls himself a picture-dealer and frame-maker (ironically)
in the High Street here. I persuaded him--not without difficulty--to
give me your address. And I've ventured to call just to see if by
chance you have anything for sale.

CARVE. By chance I haven't!

EBAG. Nothing at all?

CARVE. Not a square inch.

EBAG. (Catching sight of Janet's portrait.) Pardon me. May I look?

JANET. Oh, do!

EBAG.