The Great Adventure | Page 8

it?
CARVE. It's Mr. Cyrus Carve. The great West End auctioneer.
(Sound of front-door shutting rather too vigorously.)
JANET. Well, I see no reason why he should look at me as if I'd insulted him.
CARVE. Did he?
JANET. "Good-morning," I said to him. "Excuse me, but are you Mr. Albert Shawn?" Because I wasn't sure, you know. And he looked.
CARVE. (After laughing.) The man is an ass.
JANET. Is he?
CARVE. Not content with being an ass merely, he is a pompous and a stupid ass. (Laughs again to himself.) Now there is something very important that he ought to know, and he wouldn't let me tell him. JANET. Really?
CARVE. Yes, very important. But no. He wouldn't let me tell him. And perhaps if I'd told him he wouldn't have believed me.
JANET. What did he do to stop you from telling him?
CARVE. (At a loss, vaguely.) I don't know--Wouldn't let me.
JANET. If you ask me, I should say the truth is, you didn't want to tell him.
CARVE. (Impressed.) Now I wonder if you're right.
JANET. Well, I don't quite see how anybody can stop anybody from talking. But even if he did, he can't stop you from writing to him.
CARVE. No, I'm hanged if I write to him!
JANET. Oh, well, that's a proof you didn't want to tell him.
CARVE. Perhaps it is. (After a burst of quiet laughter.) Pardon me. (Reflective.) I was only thinking what a terrific lark it will be.
JANET. If he never does get to know?
CARVE. If he never does get to know. If nobody ever gets to know. (Resolved.) No. I'll keep my mouth shut.
JANET. As a general rule, it's the best thing to do.
CARVE. You advise me to keep my mouth shut?
JANET. Not at all. I simply say, as a general rule it's the best thing to do. But this is no business of mine, and I'm sure I'm not inquisitive.
CARVE. (Solemnly.) He shall go his own way. (Pause.) And I'll--go--mine.
JANET. (Calmly indifferent.) That's settled, then.
CARVE. (Laughs again to himself, then controls his features.) And that being settled, the first thing I have to do is to apologize for my behaviour on Tuesday night.
JANET. Oh, not at all. Seeing how upset you were! And then I'm not sure whether I shouldn't have done the same thing myself in your place.
CARVE. Done the same yourself?
JANET. Well, I may be wrong, but it occurred to me your idea was that you'd like to have a look at me before giving yourself away, as it were. Of course, I sent you my photographs, but photographs aren't much better than gravestones--for being reliable, and some folks are prejudiced against matrimonial agencies, even when they make use of them. It's natural. Now I've got no such prejudice. If you want to get married you want to get married, and there you are. It's no use pretending you don't. And there's as much chance of being happy through a matrimonial agency as any other way. At least--that's what I think.
CARVE. (Collecting his wits.) Just so.
JANET. You may tell me that people who go to a matrimonial agency stand a chance of getting let in. Well, people who don't go to a matrimonial agency stand a chance of getting let in, too. Besides, I shouldn't give a baby a razor for a birthday present, and I shouldn't advise a young girl to go to a matrimonial agency. But I'm not a young girl. If it's a question of the male sex, I may say that I've been there before. You understand me?
CARVE. Quite.
JANET. Well, I think I told you pretty nearly everything important in my letter. Didn't I?
CARVE. Let me see now----
JANET. I mean the one I sent to the office of the Matrimonial News.
CARVE. (Mechanically feeling in his pockets, pulling out papers and putting them back.) Where did I put it? Oh, perhaps it's in the pocket of another coat. (Goes to a coat of SHAWN'S hanging on inner knob of double doors, and empties all the pockets, bringing the contents, including a newspaper, to the table.)
JANET. (Picking up an envelope.) Yes, that's it--I can feel the photograph. You seem to keep things in the pockets of all your coats.
CARVE. If you knew what I've been through this last day or two----
JANET. (Soothingly.) Yes, yes.
CARVE. I haven't had a quiet moment. Now----(Reading letter.) "Dear Sir, in reply to your advertisement, I write to you with particulars of my case. I am a widow, aged thirty-two years----"
JANET. And anybody that likes can see my birth certificate. That's what I call talking.
CARVE. My dear lady! (Continuing to read.) "Thirty-two years. My father was a jobbing builder, well known in Putney and Wandsworth. My husband was a rent collector and estate agent. He died four years ago of appendicitis (hesitating) caught----"
JANET. Caused.
CARVE. I beg pardon, "--caused by accidentally swallowing a bristle