We're
never here. I'm an utter stranger. You can't leave me like that--for a
month--four weeks--four Sundays. I haven't the least idea what's going
to happen to me.
JANET. The very best thing that can happen to you is bed. You go to bed
and stop there for a couple of days. There's nothing like it.
CARVE. Yes, but where?
JANET. Why, here of course.
CARVE. I've got to be out of this place in half an hour, less. The fact
is, Cyrus Carve has been extremely--er--pert. He's paid me a month's
salary and I'm off at once. In under thirty minutes I shall be on the
streets.
JANET. I never liked that man. Well, then, you must go to some nice
respectable boarding-house.
CARVE. But I don't know any nice respectable boarding-house.
JANET. Oh! There are thousands and thousands in London. Look in the
Telegraph.
CARVE. I haven't had a paper to-day.
JANET. Any day will do. They're in all the papers every day. What's
this? (Taking up folded dirty newspaper and opening it.) Now, let's
see.
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