Carve. I beg pardon, "—caused by accidentally swallowing a bristle out of his tooth-brush, the same being discovered at the operation. I am an orphan, a widow, and have no children. In consequence I feel very lonely, and my first experience not being distasteful, indeed the reverse, I am anxious to try again, provided I can meet with a sincere helpmeet of good family. I am the owner of the above house, rated at forty-five pounds a year, in one of the nicest streets in Putney, and I have private means of some three pounds a week, from brewery shares bringing in fifteen
[48]per cent. I will say nothing about my appearance, but enclose latest carte-de-visite photograph."
Janet. I had it taken on purpose.
Carve. "As to my tastes, I will only say that as a general rule they are quiet. If the above seems in your line, I shall be obliged if you will write and send me particulars of yourself, with photographs.—Yours truly, JANET CANNOT." Well, Mrs. Cannot, your letter is an absolute model.
Janet. I suppose you did get dozens?
Carve. Well——By the way, what's this type-written thing in the envelope?
Janet. (Looking at it.) It looks like a copy of your answer.
Carve. Oh!
Janet. If it isn't a rude question, Mr. Shawn, why do you typewrite your letters? It seems so—what shall I say?—public.
Carve. (Half to himself.) So thats the explanation of the typewriter.