That's just what I've learnt
since I took lodgings in your delightful wigwam, Jane--money and fame
have no connection whatever with happiness.
JANET. Money has, when you haven't got enough.
CARVE. But I have. You won't hear of me paying more than half the
household expenses, and you say they're never more than thirty shillings
a week. Half thirty--fifteen. Look at the balance it leaves me.
JANET. And supposing I had to ask you to pay more?
CARVE. (In a serious sympathetic tone, startled.) Anything wrong?
JANET. Well, there's nothing wrong, as it were--yet----
CARVE. Jane, I do believe you've been hiding something from me.
JANET. (With difficulty pulls a letter from her pocket.) No--
CARVE. I've felt it for several days.
JANET. You just haven't then. Because I only got it this morning. Here,
you may as well read it. (Handing him the letter.) It's about the
brewery.
CARVE. (Reading.) "Mrs. Albert Shawn. Sir or Madam."--Why are
shareholders never supposed to have any particular sex?--"Sir or Madam.
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