up a great quarrel when you
were aged twelve, you and he.

CYRUS. Your manner isn't very respectful, my friend. However you may
have treated my cousin, be good enough to remember you're not my
valet.

CARVE. How did you get to know about it?

CYRUS. I suppose he forbade you to send for me, eh? (Pause.) Eh?

CARVE. (Jumping at this suggestion.) Yes.

PASCOE. So that was it.

CYRUS. (Ignoring PASCOE.) 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. (Showing paper.) Here you are! The Evening
Courier. Quite a full account of the illness. You couldn't send for me,
but you could chatter to some journalist.

CARVE. I've never spoken to a journalist in my life.

CYRUS. Then how----?

PASCOE. It's probably my assistant. His brother is something rather
important on the Courier, and he may have telephoned to him. It's a
big item of news, you know, Mr. Carve.

CYRUS. (Drily.) I imagine so. Where is the body?

PASCOE. Upstairs. (Moving towards door.)

CYRUS. Thanks. I will go alone.

PASCOE. Large room at back--first floor.

(Exit CYRUS, L.)

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.
(Handing card.)

CARVE. (Taking card perfunctorily.) Very well. Then you're going?
PASCOE. Yes. (Moves away and then suddenly puts out his hand, which
CARVE takes.) Want a word of advice?

CARVE. I--I ought----

PASCOE. 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.

(CARVE shrugs his shoulders.)

(Exit PASCOE, L. Door shuts off.)

(Re-enter CYRUS immediately after the door shuts.)

CARVE. (To himself.) Now for it! (To CYRUS). Well?

CYRUS. Well what?

CARVE. Recognize your cousin?

CYRUS. 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.

CARVE. (Taken aback.) Should you indeed. (A pause.) And so you're
Cyrus, the little boy that kicked and tried to bite in that historic
affray of thirty years ago.

CYRUS. Look here, I fancy you and I had better come to an understanding
at once. What salary did my cousin pay you for your