(Exit, L.)

     (Enter Dr. Pascoe through double doors.)

Pascoe. (At double doors, to Horning invisible behind.) Then there’s no reason why the nurse at Edith Grove shouldn’t come along here.

Horning. (Off.) Yes.  She’ll be free in an hour.

Pascoe.  All right.  I’ll look in there.

Horning. (Nervous.) What am I to do if his respiration——­

Pascoe. (Interrupting.) Don’t worry.  I’m not gone yet.  I must just clean up my hypodermic.  Shut those doors.

     (Horning obeys.)

Carve.  What’s this about a nurse?

Pascoe. (Busy with syringe, water, and syringe-case.) I’m sending one in. (Ironically.) Do you see any objection?

Carve.  On the contrary, I should like him to be treated with every care.  He’s invaluable to me.

Pascoe. (Staggered.) Invaluable to you!  Of course in my line of business I get used to meeting odd people——­

Carve. (Recovering from his mistake.) But you think I carry oddness rather far?

Pascoe.  The idea did pass through my mind.

Carve.  Nervousness—­nothing but nervousness.  I’m very nervous.  And then—­you know the saying—­like master, like man.

Pascoe. (Indicating back room with a gesture; in a slightly more confidential tone as Carve’s personal attractiveness gains on him.) Mr. Carve odd?

Carve.  Oh, very.  Always was.  Ever since I’ve known him.  You remember his first picture at the Academy?

Pascoe.  No, not exactly.

Carve.  Either you remember it exactly or you don’t remember it at all. 
Life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.

Pascoe.  Yes; it must have been odd, that must.

Carve.  Not a bit.  The oddness of the fellow——­

Pascoe.  What ’fellow’—­your governor?

Carve. (Nods.) His oddness came out in this way—­although the thing had really a great success, from that day to this he’s never painted another life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.

Pascoe.  I don’t see anything very odd there——­

Carve.  Don’t you?  Well, perhaps you don’t go in for art much.  If you did, you’d know that the usual and correct thing for a painter who has made a great success with a life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle, is to keep on doing life-size pictures of a policeman blowing his whistle for ever and ever, so that the public can always count on getting from him a life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.

Pascoe.  I observe you are one of those comic valets.  Nervousness again, no doubt.

Carve. (Smiling and continuing.) Seeing the way he invariably flouted the public, it’s always been a mystery to me how he managed to make a name, to say nothing of money.