ill: an overcoat has been drawn over his legs. A conspicuous object is a
magnificent light purple dressing-gown thrown across a chair.

Door bangs off. Enter ILAM CARVE in his shirt sleeves, hurriedly.
SHAWN feebly tries to get up.

CARVE. Now, don't move. Remember you're a sick man, and forget you're a
servant.

(SHAWN shivers. CARVE, about to put on his dressing-gown,
changes his mind, and wraps it round SHAWN as well as he can.
CARVE then puts on an oldish coat.)

SHAWN. (Feebly.) You've been very quick, sir.

CARVE. I found a red lamp only three doors off. He'll be along in half a
minute.

SHAWN. Did you explain what it was, sir?

CARVE. (Genially.) How could I explain what it was, you fool, when I
don't know? I simply asked to see the doctor, and I told him there was a
fellow-creature suffering at No. 126, and would he come at once. "126?"
he said, "126 has been shut up for years."

SHAWN. (Trying to smile.) What did you say, sir?

CARVE. I said (articulating with clearness) a hundred and
twenty-six--and ran off. Then he yelled out after me that he'd come
instantly.... I say, Shawn, we're discovered. I could tell that from his