Janet. I was thinking of going away.
(Exit, L.)
(She re-enters immediately with kettle and puts it on fire.)
Carve. Going away?
Janet. (Smiling.) Now do listen, darling. Let's go away. We can't stop here. This Ebag case is getting more and more on your nerves, and on mine too. I'm sure that's what's the matter with us. What it'll be next week when the trial comes on, I don't know—upon my soul I don't. It's all very well for you to refuse to see callers and never go out. But I can tell you one thing—we shall have those newspaper people on the roof in a day or two, and looking down the chimney to see how I lay the fire. Lawyers are nothing to them. Do you know—no you don't, because I didn't want you to be upset—last night's milk was brought by a journalist—with a camera. They're beginning to bribe the tradesmen. I tremble to think what will be in this morning's papers.
Carve. (Trying to make light of it.) Oh, nothing will upset me now. But you might let me know at once if the editor of the Spectator calls round with the bread.
[115]Janet. And I'll tell you another thing. That Mr. Horning—you know the breathless man on the Evening Courier that came to the Grand Babylon—he's taken lodgings opposite—arrived last night.
Carve. Oh, for a machine gun—one simple little machine gun!
(Exit Janet, L.)
She immediately returns with a tray containing bread, etc., and a toasting-fork.