JANET. (Putting cigarettes and matches down beside CARVE.) Want anything else, dear? (No answer from CARVE.) Because I must set about my morning's work. (CARVE continues to read.) Albert, are you sure you don't want anything else? (As he still gives her no sign of attention, she snatches the paper away from him, and throws it on the floor.) CARVE. (Not having moved his eyes.) The pattern of this jug is really not so bad.... Yes, my soul? JANET. I've asked you I don't know how many times whether you want anything else, because I must set about my morning's work. CARVE. Is there any more coffee? JANET. Yes, plenty. CARVE. Hot? JANET. Yes. CARVE. Then I don't want any. Got any bacon? JANET. No, but I can cook a slice in a minute. CARVE. (With an affectation of martyrdom.) Doesn't matter. JANET. Oh yes, I will. (Moving away.) CARVE. (Drawing her to him by her apron.) Can't you see he's teasing you? JANET. She's got no time in the morning for being teased. (She takes a cigarette, lights it and immediately puts it in his mouth.) CARVE. And now you're going to leave me? JANET. Sure you're all right? (He nods.) Quite sure you're happy? CARVE. Jane-- JANET. I wish you wouldn't call me Jane. CARVE. But I will call you Jane. Jane, why do you ask me if I'm sure I'm happy? When a man has first-class food and first-class love, together with a genuine French bed, really waterproof boots, a constant supply of hot water in the bathroom, enough money to buy cigarettes and sixpenny editions, the freedom to do what he likes all day and every day--and--let me see, what else--a complete absence of domestic servants--then either that man is happy or he is a silly cuckoo! JANET. You aren't getting tired-- CARVE. My sweet child, what's the matter with you? JANET. Nothing, nothing. Only to-day's the second anniversary of our wedding--and you've--you've said nothing about it. CARVE. (After a shocked paused.) And I forgot it last year, didn't I? I shall be forgetting my dinner next. JANET. Oh no, you won't! CARVE. And yet all last week I was thinking about this most important day, and telling myself I must remember it. JANET. Very easy to say that. But how can you prove it? CARVE. Well, it does just happen that the proof is behind the sideboard. JANET. A present? CARVE. A present. It was all ready and waiting five days ago. JANET. (Drawing a framed picture from behind the sideboard, and trying to hide her disappointment, but not quite succeeding.) Oh! A picture! Who is it? (Examines it with her nose close to it.) CARVE. No, no. You can't take a picture like snuff! Get away from it. (He jumps up, snatches the picture from her, and exposes it on a chair at the other side of the room.) Now! (He sits down again.) JANET. Yes, it doesn't look quite so queer like that. Those are my cooking sleeves, and that seems a bit like my kitchen--that's my best copper pan! Is the young woman meant to be me?