PASCOE. Yes; it must have been odd, that must.

CARVE. Not a bit. The oddness of the fellow----

PASCOE. What 'fellow'--your governor?

CARVE. (Nods.) His oddness came out in this way--although the thing
had really a great success, from that day to this he's never painted
another life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.

PASCOE. I don't see anything very odd there----

CARVE. Don't you? Well, perhaps you don't go in for art much. If you
did, you'd know that the usual and correct thing for a painter who has
made a great success with a life-size picture of a policeman blowing his
whistle, is to keep on doing life-size pictures of a policeman blowing
his whistle for ever and ever, so that the public can always count on
getting from him a life-size picture of a policeman blowing his whistle.

PASCOE. I observe you are one of those comic valets. Nervousness again,
no doubt.

CARVE. (Smiling and continuing.) Seeing the way he invariably flouted
the public, it's always been a mystery to me how he managed to make a
name, to say nothing of money.

PASCOE. Money! He must make pots. You say I don't go in for art much,
but I always read the big sales at Christie's. Why, wasn't it that
policeman picture that Lord Leonard Alcar bought for 2000 guineas last