Cannot, so far as I remember. Surely it was natural for me to suppose that you"d gone home to your own affairs.
JANET. (Sarcastically.) It didn"t occur to you I might have dropped off to sleep?
CARVE. Now, don"t be angry. I"m only convalescent.
JANET. Will you kindly march right back to bed this instant?
CARVE. No, I"m dashed if I do!
JANET. I beg pardon.
CARVE. I say, I"m dashed if I do! I won"t stir until I"ve thanked you.
I"ve been ill I don"t know how many times; but this is the first time in my life I"ve ever enjoyed being ill. D"you know (with an ingenuous smile.) I"d really no idea what nursing was.
JANET. (Drily.) Hadn"t you? Well, if you call that nursing, I don"t.
But it was the best I could do in this barracks, with the kitchen a mile and a half off, and a pack of men that can"t understand English gaping at you all day in evening-dress. I dare say this is a very good hotel for reading newspapers in. But if you want anything that isn"t on the menu, it"s as bad as drawing money out of the post office savings bank.
You should see me nurse in my own house.
CARVE. I should like to. Even in this barracks (imitating her.) you"ve quite altered my views of life.
JANET. Yes, and they wanted altering. When I think of you and that other poor fellow wandering about all alone on that Continent--without the slightest notion of what comfort is.... Well, I"ll say this--it"s a pleasure to nurse you. Now, will you go back to bed?
CARVE. I suppose coffee"s on the menu?
JANET. Coffee?
CARVE. I think I should like some cafe au lait, and a roll.
JANET. (Rising.) You can have hot milk if you like.
CARVE. All right. And then when I"ve had it I"ll go to bed.
JANET. (At telephone.) Are you there?
CARVE. (Picking up a sheet of paper from table.) h.e.l.lo! What"s this?
Hotel bill-receipted?
JANET. I should think so indeed! They sent it up the second day. (Into telephone.) Hot milk, please, and let it be hot! (Hanging up telephone. To CARVE.) I expect they were afraid for their money.
CARVE. And you paid it?
JANET. I took the money out of your pockets and I just paid it. I never said a word. But if you hadn"t been ill I should have said something. Of all the swindles, of all the barefaced swindles!... Do you see what it"s costing you to live here--a day?
CARVE. Oh, not much above four pounds, I hope.
JANET. (Speechless at first.) Any woman that knew her business could keep you for a month--a month--for less than you spend here in a day--and better. And better! Look here: "Biscuits, 1s. 6d.!"
CARVE. Well?
JANET. Well (confidentially earnest.), will you believe me when I tell you there wasn"t a pennyworth of biscuits on that plate? Do you think I don"t know what biscuits are a pound?
CARVE. Really!
JANET. (Ironically.) "Cheapest in the end"--but I should say the end"s a long way off.
CARVE. (Who has picked up another paper, on mantelpiece.) What? "Admit Mr. Albert Shawn to Westminster Abbey, cloisters entrance....
Funeral.... Tuesday."... That"s to-day, isn"t it?
JANET. Yes.
CARVE. (Moved.) But you told me he wasn"t going to be buried in Westminster Abbey.
JANET. I know.
CARVE. You told me Cyrus Carve had insisted on cremation.
JANET. (With vivacity.) And what did you expect me to tell you? I had to soothe you somehow; you were just about delirious. I was afraid if I told you the truth you"d be doing something silly--seeing the state you were in. Then it struck me a nice plain cremation at Woking was the very thing to keep you quiet.
CARVE. (Still more moved.) Then he"s.... Westminster Abbey!
JANET. Yes, I should say all is over by this time. There were thousands of people for the lying-in-state, it seems.
CARVE. But it"s awful. Absolutely awful.
JANET. Why is it awful?
CARVE. I told you--I explained the whole thing to you.
JANET. (Humouring, remonstrating.) Mr. Shawn, surely you"ve got rid of that idea! You aren"t delirious now. You said you were convalescent, you know.
CARVE. There"ll be a perfect Hades of a row. I must write to the Dean at once. I must----
JANET. (Soothingly.) I shouldn"t if I were you. Why not let things be?
No one would believe that tale----
CARVE. Do you believe it?
JANET. (Perfunctorily.) Oh yes.
CARVE. No, you don"t. Honestly, do you now?
JANET. Well----(Knock at door.) Come in. (Enter WAITER with hot milk.) Here"s your hot milk.
WAITER. Miss Looe has called.
CARVE. I must see her.
JANET. But----