JANET. No. I was thinking that you'd only just come into the house--all you famous folk--and you hadn't quite got it straight yet--as it were. (Looking vaguely at room.) CARVE. All we famous folk? JANET. Well--I don't know myself about that sort of thing. CARVE. What sort of thing? JANET. Picture-painting, isn't it? I mean real pictures done by hand, coloured----CARVE. Ah--yes. JANET. (After a slight pause.) It struck me all of a sudden, while I was waiting at the door, that it might have been left open on purpose. CARVE. The front door? On purpose? What for? JANET. Oh--for some one particular to walk in without any fuss. So in I stepped. CARVE. You're the young lady that Mr. Shawn's expecting----(Going towards passage.) JANET. (Stopping him.) It's shut now. You don't want everybody walking in, do you? CARVE. (Looking at JANET with pleasure.) So you're the young lady--Mrs.--Miss---- JANET. (Ignoring his question.) Was it a message you had for me? CARVE. No, no. Not a message.... But--the fact is, we're rather upset here for the moment. JANET. Yes. Illness. CARVE. Now, if it isn't an indiscreet question, how did you know that there was illness? JANET. I was standing looking at this house and wondering whether I shouldn't do better to go right back home there and then. But "No," I said, "I've begun, and I'll go through with it."--Well, I was standing there when what should I see but a parlour maid pop up from the area steps next door, and she says to me over the railings, "The doctor's just been." Just like that, excited. So I said, "Thank you, miss." I hope it's nothing serious? CARVE. Pneumonia. JANET. Pneumonia. What a mercy! CARVE. Mercy? JANET. If you look at it sensibly it's about the best illness anybody could have in hot weather like this. You've got to keep them warm. The weather does it for you. If it was typhoid now, and you'd got to keep them cool--that would be awkward. Not but it passes me how anybody can catch pneumonia in August. CARVE. Coming over from the Continent. JANET. Oh! the Continent. It's not Mr. Shawn that's ill? CARVE. (Hesitating.) Mr. Shawn? Oh no, no! It's Ilam Carve. JANET. (Half whispering. Awed.) Oh, him! Poor thing. And nobody but men in the house. CARVE. And who told you that? JANET. Well! (waves her hand to indicate the state of the room, smiling indulgently) I always feel sorry for gentlemen when they have to manage for themselves, even if they're well and hearty. But when it comes to illness--I can't bear to think about it. Still, everybody has their own notions of comfort. And I've no doubt he'll very soon be better. CARVE. You think he will? JANET. (Blandly cheerful.) As a general rule, you may say that people do get better. That's my experience. Of course sometimes they take a longish time. And now and then one dies--else what use would cemeteries be? But as a general rule they're soon over it. Now am I going to see Mr. Shawn, or shall I----