ents--passports and so on.

CYRUS. There appears to be some money. I'm glad you've left that. Quite
a lot, in fact. (Showing notes.)

CARVE. Here, steady! There's twelve thousand francs there besides some
English notes. That's mine.

CYRUS. Yours, eh? He was taking care of it for you, no doubt?

CARVE. (Hesitating.) Yes.

CYRUS. When you can furnish me with his receipt for the deposit, my man,
it shall be handed to you. Till then it forms part of the estate.
(Looking at a packet of letters.) "Alice Rowfant."

CARVE. And those letters are mine too.

CYRUS. (Reading.) "My dearest boy"--Were you Lady Alice Rowfant's
dearest boy? Anyhow, we'll burn them.

CARVE. So long as you burn them I don't mind.

CYRUS. Indeed! (Continues to examine papers, cheque foils, etc. Then
opens a document.)

CARVE. Oh! Is that still there? I thought it was destroyed.

CYRUS. Do you know what it is?

CARVE. Yes. It's a will that was made in Venice I don't know how long
ago--just after your aunt died and you had that appalling and final
shindy by correspondence about the lease of this house. Everything is
left for the establishment of an International Gallery of Painting and
Sculpture in London, and you're the sole executor, and you get a legacy
of five pounds for your trouble.

CYRUS. Yes.... So I see. No doubt my cousin imagined it would annoy me.

CARVE. He did.

CYRUS. He told you so?

CARVE. He said it would be one in the eye for you--and he wondered
whether you'd decline the executorship.

CYRUS. Well, my man, I may tell you at once that I shall not renounce
probate. I never expected a penny from my cousin. I always assumed he'd
do something silly with his money, and I'm relieved to find it's no
worse. In fact, the idea of a great public institution in London being
associated with my family is rather pleasant.

CARVE. But he meant to destroy that will long since.

CYRUS. (As he cons the will.) How do you know? Has he made a later
will?

CARVE. No.

CYRUS. Well, then! Besides, I fail to see why you should be so anxious
to have it destroyed. You come into eighty pounds a year under it.

CARVE. I was forgetting that.

CYRUS. (Reading.) "I bequeath to my servant, Albert Shawn, who I am
convinced is a thorough rascal, but who is an unrivalled valet, courier,
and factotum, the sum of eighty pounds a year for life, payable
quarterly in advance, provided he is in my service at the time of my
death."

(CARVE la