CARVE. (Looking up absently and only half rising, perfunctorily and
quickly) Good-morning. Good-morning. (Sits down.)
JANET. (To JAMES SHAWN, who is hovering near door L, uncertain of his
way out.) This way, this time!
(Exeunt the SHAWNS followed by JANET.)
(CARVE rises and draws curtains of window apart)
(Re-enter JANET.)
JANET. (Cheerfully) Oh, it's quite light! (Turns out gas.)
CARVE. (Gazing at her.) Incomparable woman!
JANET. So it's true after all!
CARVE. What?
JANET. All that rigmarole about you being Ilam Carve?
CARVE. You're beginning to come round at last?
JANET. Well, I think they were quite honest people--those three. There's
no doubt the poor creature once had a husband who did run off. And it
seems fairly clear his name was Albert Shawn, and he went away as valet
to an artist. But then, on the other hand, if there is one thing certain
in this world, it is that you were never married before you married me.
That I will swear to.
CARVE.
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