And yet she identified me. She was positive.
JANET. Positive? That's just what she wasn't! And didn't you notice the
queer way she looked at you as they went out? As much as to say, "I
wonder now whether it is him--after all?"
CARVE. Then you really think she could be mistaken on such a point?
JANET. Pooh! After twenty-six years. Besides, all men of forty-seven
look more or less alike.... And so I'm the wife of Ilam Carve that's
supposed to be buried in Westminster Abbey and royalty went to his
funeral! We'll have some tea ourselves. I say, why did you do it?
(Pours out tea.)
CARVE. (Casually.) I don't know. It was to save worry to begin with,
and then it went on by itself and somehow I couldn't stop it.... I don't
know!
JANET. (Endearingly.) Well, I've always told you frankly you've got a
bee in your bonnet. (Drinking tea and turning over the post.) More
letters from these newspaper people! What's this lovely crest on this
envelope?
CARVE. It's from Lord Leonard Alcar. He says if we'll go up and see him
to-morrow afternoon he'll be very much obliged indeed, and he may be
able to be of assistance to us.
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