JANET. Yes, I should say all is over by this time. There were thousands of people for the lying-in-state, it seems. CARVE. But it's awful. Absolutely awful. JANET. Why is it awful? CARVE. I told you--I explained the whole thing to you. JANET. (Humouring, remonstrating.) Mr. Shawn, surely you've got rid of that idea! You aren't delirious now. You said you were convalescent, you know. CARVE. There'll be a perfect Hades of a row. I must write to the Dean at once. I must---- JANET. (Soothingly.) I shouldn't if I were you. Why not let things be? No one would believe that tale---- CARVE. Do you believe it? JANET. (Perfunctorily.) Oh yes. CARVE. No, you don't. Honestly, do you now? JANET. Well----(Knock at door.) Come in. (Enter WAITER with hot milk.) Here's your hot milk. WAITER. Miss Looe has called. CARVE. I must see her. JANET. But---- CARVE. I must see her. JANET. Oh, very well. (Exit WAITER.) She's telephoned each day to inquire how you were. She asked if you wanted a seat for the funeral. I told her you couldn't possibly go, but I was sure you'd like to be invited--whether it was the Abbey or not. Please don't forget your milk. (Enter HONORIA LOOE in mourning, introduced by WAITER.) HONORIA. (Coming in quickly, bowing to JANET and shaking hands with CARVE.) Good afternoon. Please don't rise. I've heard how ill you've been. I've only called because I simply had to. CARVE. It's very kind of you. HONORIA. Oh, Mr. Shawn, I know you didn't want him to be buried in the Abbey. I'm all for quiet funerals, too; but really this was an exceptional case, and I think if you'd seen it you'd have been glad they did decide on the Abbey. Oh, you've no idea how impressive it was! The Abbey is always so fine, isn't it? And it was crammed. You never saw such a multitude of distinguished people. I mean really distinguished--all in black, except, of course, the uniforms. Royalties, ambassadors, representatives from all the academies all over Europe. Rodin was there!! The whole of artistic London came. I don't mean only painters, but poets, novelists, sculptors, and musicians. The art students had a corner to themselves. And you should have seen the crowds outside. All traffic was stopped up as far as Trafalgar Square. I've had some difficulty in getting here. The sun was shining through the stained glass. And the music was magnificent. And then when the coffin was carried down the nave--well, there was only one wreath on the pall--just one--a white crown. All the other wreaths were piled near the screen--scores and scores of them--the effect was tremendous. I nearly cried. A lot of people did cry. (Genuinely moved.) There was that great genius lying there. He'd never done anything except put paint on canvas, and yet--and yet.... Well, it made you feel somehow that England does care for art after all. CARVE. (After a pause.) And whom have we to thank for this beautiful national manifestation of sympathy with art? HONORIA. How do you mean?