Texel.  If I wasn’t going to come out on top, I could understand you worrying about your old Abbey.  But I’m taking the part of your Abbey.  When I win it wins, and I’m certain to win.

Alcar.  I do not doubt——­

Ebag. (With suave assurance.) But I do.

Alcar. (Continuing.) I do not doubt your conviction, Mr. Texel.  It merely proves that you have never seen a British Jury exercising itself upon a question relating to the fine arts.  If you had you would not be certain, for you would know that twelve tradesmen so occupied are capable of accomplishing the most incredible marvels.  Supposing you don’t win—­supposing Mr. Ebag wins——­

Ebag.  As I assuredly shall.

Alcar.  Then we should have the whole world saying, “Well, they haven’t given a national funeral to a really great artist for about a century, and when at last they do try they only succeed in burying a valet.”

Carve. (Looking round casually.) England all over!

Alcar.  The effect would be lamentable—­utterly lamentable.  You will realize that in influential quarters——­

Texel.  But do you reckon this policy of hushing up things ever does any good?

Alcar.  My dear sir, it is the corner-stone of England’s greatness.  It is the policy that has made her what she is!

Carve. (Looking round again.) True!  What she is!

Alcar. (Turning sharply to carve behind him.) Mr. X, your interest in my picture flatters me immensely——­

Carve. (Interrupting him.) I see you’ve bought my latest portrait of my wife.

Alcar.  Yes.

Janet. (Starting up.) What’s that? (She goes to inspect picture.)

Carve.  I suppose it would be abusing your hospitality to inquire how much you paid our excellent dealer for it?

Alcar.  Not in the least.  But the fact is we haven’t yet settled the price.  The exact price is to depend on the result of our gathering.

Janet.  Well, if anybody had told me I should find my own portrait—­cooking-sleeves and all——­

     (Inarticulate—­she returns to her chair.)

Alcar.  And now that we have got so far, Mr. X, I should like to centralize the attention of this quite friendly gathering on yourself.

Carve. (Approaching airily.) Really! (He sits.)

Alcar.  There are several questions we might discuss.  For example, we might argue the artistic value of the pictures admittedly the work of Mr. X. That would probably occupy us for about ten years.  Or we might ask ourselves how it happened that that exceedingly astute dealer, Mr. Ebag, came to sell as a genuine Ilam Carve, without offering any explanation, a picture which, on the face of it, was painted some time after that great painter had received a national funeral in Westminster Abbey.