pe.
Rodin was there!! The whole of artistic London came. I don't mean only
painters, but poets, novelists, sculptors, and musicians. The art
students had a corner to themselves. And you should have seen the crowds
outside. All traffic was stopped up as far as Trafalgar Square. I've had
some difficulty in getting here. The sun was shining through the stained
glass. And the music was magnificent. And then when the coffin was
carried down the nave--well, there was only one wreath on the pall--just
one--a white crown. All the other wreaths were piled near the
screen--scores and scores of them--the effect was tremendous. I nearly
cried. A lot of people did cry. (Genuinely moved.) There was that
great genius lying there. He'd never done anything except put paint on
canvas, and yet--and yet.... Well, it made you feel somehow that England
does care for art after all.

CARVE. (After a pause.) And whom have we to thank for this beautiful
national manifestation of sympathy with art?

HONORIA. How do you mean?

CARVE. (With an attempt at cold irony, but yet in a voice imperfectly
controlled.) Did your brother relent and graciously permit Lady Leonard
Alcar to encourage a national funeral? Or was it due solely to the
influence of the newspapers written by people of refined culture like
the man who gave his opinion the other day that I had got 'em? Or
perhaps you yourself settled it with your esteemed uncle over a cup of
tea?

HONORIA. Of course, Mr. Shawn, any one can see that you're artistic
yourself, and artists are generally very sarcastic about the British
public. I know I am.... Now, don't you paint?

CARVE. (Shrugging his shoulders.) I used to--a little.

HONORIA. I was sure of it. Well, you can be as sarcastic as you like,
but do you know what I was thinking during the service? I was thinking
if only he could have seen it--if only Ilam Carve could have seen
it--instead of lying cold in that coffin under that wreath,
he'd--(Hesitating.)

CARVE. (Interrupting her, in a different, resolved tone.) Miss Looe, I
suppose you're on very confidential terms with your uncle.

HONORIA. Naturally. Why?

CARVE. Will you give him a message from me. He'll do perhaps better than
anybody.

HONORIA. With pleasure.

CARVE. (Moved.) It is something important--very important indeed. In
fact--

(JANET goes into bedroom, but keeping near the doorway does not
actually disappear.)

HONORIA. (Soothingly, and a little fright