EBAG. I've been buying some very delightful little things of yours from a man that calls himself a picture-dealer and frame-maker (ironically) in the High Street here. I persuaded him--not without difficulty--to give me your address. And I've ventured to call just to see if by chance you have anything for sale. CARVE. By chance I haven't! EBAG. Nothing at all? CARVE. Not a square inch. EBAG. (Catching sight of Janet's portrait.) Pardon me. May I look? JANET. Oh, do! EBAG. A brilliant likeness. JANET. Who of? EBAG. Why, madam--yourself? The attitude is extraordinarily expressive. And if I may say so (glancing at CARVE) the placing of the high lights--those white sleevelets--what d'you call them? JANET. Why! Those are my cooking-sleeves! EBAG. (Quietly.) Yes--well--it's genius--mere genius. JANET. (Looking at picture afresh) It is rather pretty when you come to look at it. EBAG. It is a masterpiece, madam. (To CARVE.) Then I may not make an offer for it? CARVE. No. JANET. Excuse me, Albert. Why shouldn't the gentleman make an offer for it? EBAG. (Quickly seizing an opportunity) If you cared to consider, say, five hundred pounds. JANET. Five hundred p---- EBAG. I came down quite prepared to spend--and to pay cash. (Fingers his pocket-book.) JANET. (Sitting down.) And if it isn't a rude question--do you generally go about with five hundred pounds in your pocket, as it were? EBAG. (Raising his hands.) In my business, madam-- CARVE. It's not for sale. (Turns it round.) JANET. (Vivaciously.) Oh yes, it is. Somebody in this house must think about the future. (Cajolingly.) If this gentleman can show me five hundred pounds it's for sale. After all, it's my picture. And you can do me another one. I'd much sooner be done without the cooking-sleeves. (Entreating.) Albert! CARVE. (Shy, nervous, and tongue-tied.) Well! JANET. (Endearingly.) That's right! That's all right! EBAG. (Putting down notes.) If you will kindly count these-- JANET. (Taking the notes.) Nay, I'm too dizzy to count them. (As if giving up any attempt to realize the situation.) It fairly beats me! I never did understand this art business, and I never shall....(To EBAG.) Why are you so interested in my portrait? You've never seen me before. EBAG. Madam, your portrait happens to be one of the very finest modern paintings I ever saw. (To CARVE.) I have a picture here as to which I should like to ask your opinion. (Exposing picture.) I bought it ten years ago. CARVE. (After seeing picture.) Janet, would you mind leaving us a minute. JANET. (Triumphant with her money.) Not a bit. (Exit, L.) EBAG. (Bowing to JANET. Then to CARVE.) It's signed "Ilam Carve." Should you say it's a genuine Carve? CARVE. (More and more disturbed.) Yes. EBAG. Where was it painted? CARVE. Why do you ask me? EBAG. (Quietly dramatic.) Because you painted it. (Pause. He approaches CARVE.) Master---- CARVE. What's that? EBAG. Master! (Pause.)