CYRUS. Then how----?

PASCOE. It's probably my assistant. His brother is something rather
important on the Courier, and he may have telephoned to him. It's a
big item of news, you know, Mr. Carve.

CYRUS. (Drily.) I imagine so. Where is the body?

PASCOE. Upstairs. (Moving towards door.)

CYRUS. Thanks. I will go alone.

PASCOE. Large room at back--first floor.

(Exit CYRUS, L.)

I think I'd prefer to leave you to yourselves now. Of course, Mr. Carve
will do all that's necessary. You might give him my card, and tell him
I'm at his service as regards signing the death certificate and so on.
(Handing card.)

CARVE. (Taking card perfunctorily.) Very well. Then you're going?
PASCOE. Yes. (Moves away and then suddenly puts out his hand, which
CARVE takes.) Want a word of advice?

CARVE. I--I ought----

PASCOE. If I were you I should try to get something better than
valeting. It's not your line. You may have suited Ilam Carve, but you'd
never suit an ordinary employer. You aren't a fool--not by any means.