CARVE. Yes, but I don't want to be. ALCAR. Might I inquire why you allowed your servant to be buried in your name? CARVE. Well, he always did everything for me--a most useful man.... But I didn't 'allow' him to be buried in my name. On the contrary, I told various people that I was not dead--but strange to say, nobody would believe me. My handsome, fascinating cousin here wouldn't even let me begin to tell him. Even my wife wouldn't believe me, so I gave it up. (TEXEL does not conceal his enjoyment of the scene.) CYRUS. (Grimly.) Which wife? (CARVE twiddles his thumbs.) ALCAR. But do you mean---- TEXEL. May I interrupt, Lord Leonard? I could listen for hours to this absolutely stupendous gentleman. A circus is nothing to it. But aren't we jumping the track? I've got two witnesses. Mr. Cyrus Carve will swear that your Mr. X is not his cousin. And the original Mrs. Albert Shawn will swear that he is her husband. That's my case. How is my esteemed opponent going to answer it? EBAG. In the first place, have you cross-examined this very original Mrs. Albert Shawn? TEXEL. Come. You don't mean to argue that a woman could mistake another man for her own husband--even after twenty-five years or so? EBAG. (Smiling apologetically for his freedom.) According to the divorce reports, they're constantly doing it after one year, to say nothing of twenty-five. TEXEL. (Appreciative.) Good! That's good! Well, I may tell you right here that I had an interview with this gentleman's (indicating CARVE) ecclesiastical twins only yesterday afternoon, and they assure me that their mother is positive on the point. JANET. (Meditatively.) Simpletons! ALCAR. I beg pardon. JANET. I daresay they preach very nicely, but out of the pulpit they don't what I should call shine, poor boys! Anybody could see she wasn't positive. Why, it wasn't until the old lady dropped in to have a cup of tea with us that I felt sure my husband's name really was Carve. ALCAR. Then you hadn't credited his story before? JANET. Well, it wanted some crediting, didn't it? CYRUS. (With intention.) You only began to credit it after Mr. Ebag had called and paid you the sum of £500 in cash. JANET. (After a slight pause, calmly.) Oh! So you know about that, do you? CARVE. (To CYRUS, genially.) Cousin, if you continue in that strain I shall have to take you out on to the doormat and assault you. EBAG. I should like to say---- CYRUS. (Interrupting grimly.) Lord Leonard, isn't it time that this ceased? TEXEL. (Heartily amused.) But why? I'm enjoying every minute of it.