a mess.

JANET. And it all comes of this painting. Art as it's called. (She
finds her apron and puts it on.)

CARVE. (With an air of discovery.) Your faculty for keeping calm
really is most singular.

JANET. Somebody has to keep calm.

(Voice off: "Butcher.")

CARVE. Anybody would say you didn't care a cent whether I'm Ilam Carve
or whether I'm somebody else.

JANET. What does it matter to me who you are, so long as you're you?
Men are so unpractical. You can be the Shah of Persia if you like--I
don't mind.

CARVE. But aren't you convinced now?

(Voice off: "Butcher.")

JANET. (With an enigmatic smile at CARVE.) Coming! Coming!

(Exit.)

(The stage is darkened to indicate the passage of several
months.)

SCENE 2

TIME.--Before daylight on a morning in February. Fire burning in grate.
Also a speck of gas. Otherwise it is dark.

CARVE is discovered reposing-in an easy-chair. Enter JANET with
a candle.

JANET. (Stiffly.) So you've not been to sleep either?

CARVE. (Stiffly.) Oh yes; had an excellent night in this chair.

JANET. (Going to fire.) Now, you're only boasting. If you've had such
an excellent night (imitating him), who's kept up such an excellent
fire?

CARVE. (Lamely.) Well, of course I looked after it now and then. I
didn't want to perish in my solitude.

JANET. Then why didn't you come to bed, great baby?

CARVE. (Sitting up with solemnity.) Janet, we are a pair of great
babies to have quarrelled like that,--especially at bedtime.

JANET. (Simply.) Quarrelled?

CARVE. Well, didn't we?

JANET. I didn't. I agreed with everything you said.

CARVE. What did you agree with? I should like to know.

JANET. You said I didn't really believe after all that you are Ilam
Carve, and I assured you in the most soothing manner that I did believe
you are Ilam Carve!

CARVE. And do you call that agreeing with me? I know perfectly well from
your tone that in spite of all my explanations and reiterations during
the last three months you don't believe I'm Ilam Carve. You only say
you do in order to soothe me. I hate being soothed. You're as convinced
as ever that Ebag is a rascal, and that I've got a bee in my bonnet.

JANET. But what does it matter?

CARVE. (Cold and hard.) Well, I like that!

JANET. (Weeping.) It's not my fault if I don't believe you're Ilam
Carve. I would if I could, but I can't! You're very cruel.

CARVE. (Jumping up and emb