)
CARVE. You bet he would.
JANET. Why! Two pounds would keep us for the best part of a week. How
long does it take you to do one?
(Noise of motor car outside.)
CARVE. Oh, three or four hours. I work pretty quickly.
JANET. Well, it's like a fairy tale. Two pounds! I don't know whether
I'm standing on my head or my heels!
(Violent ringing at front door bell.)
CARVE. There's one of your tradesmen.
JANET. It isn't. They know better than come to my front door. They know
I won't have it.
(Exit, throwing off apron.)
(CARVE examines the portrait of his wife with evident pleasure.)
CARVE. (To himself.) That 'ud make 'em sit up in Bond Street. (Laughs
grimly.)
(Voices off. Re-enter JANET, followed by EBAG carrying a
picture.)
JANET. Well, it never rains but it pours. Here's a gentleman in a motor
car wants to know if you've got any pictures for sale. (She calmly
conceals her apron.)
EBAG. (With diplomatic caution and much deference.) Good-morning.
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