Carve. Well, they make me angry. Obituaries of archbishops aren't so bad. Newspapers seem to understand archbishops. But when they begin about artists—you cannot imagine the astounding nonsense they talk.
Janet. (Protesting against his heat.) Now! You're still all on wires. Why should that make you angry?
Carve. What did the Telegraph say? Did you look at it?
Janet. Oh yes. It appears Mr. Carve was a very eccentric person—avoiding society and so on.
Carve. (Resentful.) Eccentric! There you are! He wasn't eccentric in the least. The only society he avoided was the society of gaping fools.
Janet. Well, I'm just telling you what it said. Then, let me see—what else did it say? Oh! It said the sole question was whether Mr. Carve was the greatest painter since Velasquez—is that how you pronounce it?—or
[58]whether he was the greatest painter that ever lived.
Carve. (Interested.) Really! It said that?
Janet. (Nodding.) You ought to read it.
Carve. Upon my soul I think I must. (Attempts to rise.)