ignity 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 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.

CARVE. (Meditatively--bland.) How English! (He gets up and walks
unobtrusively about the room, examining the pictures.)

ALCAR. 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. (In a new tone, showing the orator skilled in
changes of voice.) Can't we discuss our little affair in a friendly way
entirely without prejudice? We are together here, among gentlemen--

JANET. I'm afraid you're forgetting me.

ALCAR. (Recovering himself.) Madam, I am convinced that none of us can
be more gentlemanly than yourself.... Can we not find a way of
settlement? (With luxurious enjoyment of the idea.) 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!

TEXEL. 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 it wins, and I'm certain to win.

ALCAR. I do not doubt----

EBAG. (With suave assurance.) But I do.

ALCAR. (Continuing.) 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----

EBAG. As I assuredly shall.

ALCAR. 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."

CARVE. (Looking round casually.) England all over!

ALCAR. The effect would be lamentable--utterly lamentable. You