never thinks about anything
else--morning, noon, and night. It stands to reason--and they can say
what they like--I know. And now he's dead--probably because he'd no
notion of looking after himself, and it's been in all the papers how
wonderful he was, and florists' girls have very likely sat up half the
night making wreaths, and Westminster Abbey was crowded out with
fashionable folk--and do you know what all those fashionable folk are
thinking about just now--tea! And if it isn't tea, it's whisky and soda.

CARVE. But you mustn't forget that he was really very successful
indeed.... Just look at the money he made, for instance.

JANET. Well, if sovereigns had been any use to him he'd never have left
two hundred thousand of them behind him--him with no family. No, he was
no better than a fool with money. Couldn't even spend it.

CARVE. He had the supreme satisfaction of doing what he enjoyed doing
better than anybody else could do it.

JANET. And what was that?

CARVE. Painting.

JANET. (Casually.) Oh! and couldn't he have had that without running
about all over Europe? He might just as well have been a commercial
traveller. Take my word for it, Mr. Shawn, there's nothing like a
comfortable home and a quiet life--and the less you're in the newspapers
the better.

CARVE. (Thoughtfully.) Do you know--a good deal of what you say
applies to me.

JANET. And you now! As we're on the subject--before we go any
further--you're a bachelor of forty-five, same as him. What have you
been doing with yourself lately?

CARVE. Doing with myself?

JANET. Well, I think I ought to ask because when I was stealing (with a
little nervous laugh) the money out of your pocket to pay that hotel
bill, I came across a lady's photograph. I couldn't help coming across
it. Seeing how things are, I think I ought to ask.

CARVE. Oh, that! It must be a photograph of the lady he was engaged
to. He broke it off, you know. That was why we came to London in such a
hurry.

JANET. Then it is true--what the newspaper reporter said? (CARVE
nods.) One of the aristocracy--(CARVE nods.) Who was she?

CARVE. Lady Alice Rowfant.

JANET. What was it doing in your pocket?

CARVE. I don't know. Everything got mixed up. Clothes, papers,
everything.

JANET. Sure?

CARVE. Of course! Look here, do you suppose Lady Alice Rowfant is
anything to me?

JANET. She isn't?

CARVE. No.

JANET. Honestly? (Looking at him closely.)

CARVE. Honestly.

J