The Great Adventure | Page 2

lamp on table.)
PASCOE. No women in the house?
CARVE. (With humour that the doctor declines to see.) Not one.
PASCOE. (Controlling his exasperation.) Never mind. I'll run round to the surgery and get my hypodermic. (To SHAWN, reassuringly and deferentially.) I shall be back at once, Mr. Carve. (To CARVE, near door.) Keep your master well covered up--I suppose you can do that?
(Exit.)
CARVE. Shawn, my poor fellow, he takes you for the illustrious Ilam Carve. This is what comes of me rushing out in shirt sleeves. (Gesture of despair.) I can't explain it to him.
SHAWN. But----
CARVE. It's all right. You'll be infinitely better looked after, you know, and I shall be saved from their infernal curiosity.
SHAWN. It's only this, sir. I was half-expecting a young lady to-night, sir (very feebly). At least, I believe she's young.
CARVE. Shawn, I've always suspected you were a bad lot. Now I know. I also know why you were so devilish anxious to put me to bed early. What am I to say to this young lady on your behalf?
(SHAWN worse, too ill to answer. Pause. Re-enter DR. PASCOE, very rapidly, with a large tumbler half-full of hot liquid.)
PASCOE. You may say I've been quick. (As he bends down to SHAWN, addressing CARVE.) Get me a wine glass of clean cold water. (To SHAWN.) Now, please. I want you to drink a little brandy and water. (SHAWN makes no response.) By Jove! (The doctor pours some of the brandy and water down SHAWN'S throat.)
CARVE. (Who has been wandering about vaguely.) I don't think we've got a wine glass. There's a cup, but I suppose that isn't medical enough.
PASCOE. (Taking a syringe from his pocket and unscrewing it.) Pour some water in it. (CARVE obeys.) Now, hold it.
CARVE. (Indicating syringe.) What is this device? PASCOE. This device? I'm going to get some strychnine into him by injection. Steady with that cup, now!
(Pascoe drops a tablet into the syringe and screws it up again, draws a little water up into the syringe and shakes the syringe. Then he goes to SHAWN to make the injection, on the top side of the patient's forearm. CARVE still holds the cup out mechanically.)
PASCOE. I've done with that cup.
CARVE. (Putting the cup down.) Might I ask what's the matter with him?
PASCOE. Pneumonia is the matter.
(Noise of some one in the hall.)
CARVE. (Startled.) Surely that's some one in the hall.
PASCOE. Keep perfectly calm, my man. It's my assistant. I left the door open on purpose for him. He's got the poultice and things. (In a loud voice as he finishes the injection.) Come along, come along there. This way.
(Enter EDWARD HORNING with poultice, lint, bandages, etc.) PASCOE. Found the antiphlogistine?
EDWARD. Yes. (He looks at patient, and exchanges a glance with PASCOE.)
PASCOE. Where's the bedroom?
CARVE. There's one there. (Pointing to double doors.)
PASCOE. (To HORNING.) We'll get him into bed now. (To CARVE.) Bed ready?
CARVE. Yes. I--I think he was just making it up.
PASCOE. (Startled.) Does he make up his own bed?
CARVE. (Perceiving the mistake, but resuming his calm.) Always.
PASCOE. (Controlling his astonishment; looking through double doors and opening them wider. To HORNING.) Yes, this will do. Put those things down here a minute while we lift him.
(PASCOE and HORNING then carry the inanimate form of SHAWN into the room behind, while CARVE hovers about uselessly.)
CARVE. Can I do anything?
PASCOE. (Indicating a chair furthest away from the double doors.) You see that chair?
CARVE. I see it.
PASCOE. Go and sit on it.
(Exeunt PASCOE and HORNING, back, closing double door's.)
(After walking about, CARVE sits down on another chair. A bell rings twice. He pays no attention. Then enter JANET CANNOT, L. CARVE jumps up, but is inarticulate, though very favourably interested.)
JANET. (Smiling sympathetically.) I rang twice.
CARVE. The bell must be out of order.
JANET. I couldn't be sure, but I don't think it's the bell that's out of order.
CARVE. Oh! You think I'm out of order.
JANET. No. I was thinking that you'd only just come into the house--all you famous folk--and you hadn't quite got it straight yet--as it were. (Looking vaguely at room.)
CARVE. All we famous folk?
JANET. Well--I don't know myself about that sort of thing.
CARVE. What sort of thing?
JANET. Picture-painting, isn't it? I mean real pictures done by hand, coloured----CARVE. Ah--yes.
JANET. (After a slight pause.) It struck me all of a sudden, while I was waiting at the door, that it might have been left open on purpose.
CARVE. The front door? On purpose? What for?
JANET. Oh--for some one particular to walk in without any fuss. So in I stepped.
CARVE. You're the young lady that Mr. Shawn's expecting----(Going towards passage.)
JANET. (Stopping him.) It's shut now. You don't want everybody walking in, do you?
CARVE. (Looking at JANET with pleasure.) So you're the young lady--Mrs.--Miss----
JANET. (Ignoring his question.) Was it a message you had for me?
CARVE. No, no. Not a