Cyrus.  I can believe it.

Carve. (Smiling at Janet.) I’ve got past shyness.  I think it was the visit of my fine stalwart sons yesterday that cured me of shyness.  I doubt if I shall ever be shy any more.

Janet. (Appealingly.) Dearest, to please me!

Carve. (Curt now for the first time, with a flash of resentment.) No.

Janet. (After a slight pause; hurt and startled; with absolute conviction, to lord Leonard Alcar.) It’s no use.  He’s made up his mind.

Ebag.  I have an idea that I can persuade—­

Janet. (Hotly.) Excuse me.  You can’t.

Ebag.  I have an idea I can.  But (hesitates) the fact is, not in the presence of ladies.

Janet.  Oh.  If that’s all—­(walks away in a huff.)

Ebag. (To Janet.) My deepest apologies.

     (Lord Leonard Alcar shows Janet out)

Texel.  Well, well!  What now?

Ebag. (To carve.) You remember Lady Alice Rowfant?

Carve. (Taken aback.) That doesn’t concern you.

Ebag. (Ignoring this answer.) Pardon me if I speak plainly.  You were once engaged to marry Lady Alice Rowfant.  But a few days before your valet died you changed your mind and left her in the lurch in Spain.  Lady Alice Rowfant is now in England.  She has been served with a subpoena to give evidence at the trial.  And if the trial comes on she will have to identify you and tell her story in court. (Pause.) Are you going to put her to this humiliation?

     (Carve walks about.  Then he gives a gesture of surrender.)

Carve.  The artist is always beaten! (With an abrupt movement he pulls undone the bow of his necktie.)

     (The stage is darkened to indicate the passage of a few minutes.)

SCENE 2

     (Carve is attempting to re-tie his necktie.  Lord Leonard Alcar
     is coming away from door back.  Janet enters from door, L.)

Janet. (Under emotion, to carve.) Then you’ve done it! (Carve ignores her.)

Alcar.  Yes, and I feel like a dentist.

Janet.  You’ve sent them all away.

Alcar.  I thought you’d like me to.  Mr. Ebag took charge of Mr. Texel. 
Your cousin Cyrus was extremely upset.

Janet.  What did she say?

Alcar.  Who say?

Janet.  Lady Alice Rowfant, of course.  Oh!  You needn’t pretend!  As soon as Mr. Ebag asked me to go out I knew he’d got her up his sleeve.  (Weeps slightly.)

Alcar. (Very sympathetically.) My dear young lady, what is the matter?

Janet. (Her utterance disturbed by sobs—­indicating carve.) He’d do it for her, but he wouldn’t do it for me!