[He waves his hand; there is a sudden and complete darkness for a few seconds, with the sounds of rumbling and rushing wind as before. Above this theRapkins'voices are heard.
[He waves his hand; there is a sudden and complete darkness for a few seconds, with the sounds of rumbling and rushing wind as before. Above this theRapkins'voices are heard.
Rapkin's Voice.
Turned off the lights, 'as he? ButI'lltalk to 'im when Isee'im!
Mrs. Rapkin's Voice.
Don't let go of my 'and, Rapkin! Iknowthere's some o' them nasty niggers about!
Rapkin's Voice.
'Im and his bloomin' niggers and Arabian 'alls! [Bawling.] Mr. Ventimore! You'earme!
[The stage has been growing gradually lighter, andMr.andMrs. Rapkinare seen standing together in the room in which the play opened.
[The stage has been growing gradually lighter, andMr.andMrs. Rapkinare seen standing together in the room in which the play opened.
Horace.
[Appearing at bedroom door on right, in smoking suit, holding candle.] Perfectly. [Blandly.] Anything thematter, Rapkin?
Rapkin.
[Looking round open-mouthed, and blinking inbewilderment.] Matter, sir? No, sir. Nothink, sir. Notnow, sir!
Horace.
[Sweetly.] Glad to hear it. You'll be all right in the morning. Hot water at the usual time, please.Goodnight!
[He goes into his bedroom, leaving the stage in darkness again as the curtain falls.
[He goes into his bedroom, leaving the stage in darkness again as the curtain falls.
The scene representsHorace'soffice in Great College Street.It is a small room, panelled in dark oak. On the left is an old mantelpiece in white and yellow marble. Beyond the fireplace is a door communicating withPringle'soffice. On the right is a recessed window, through which the top of an old grey wall with chevaux-de-frise and foliage above can be seen. At the back, on the right, is a door leading to the staircase. On the left of this door, an architect's cabinet, with narrow drawers for plans, &c. On the walls are plans and architectural drawings, a T-square or two, an office calendar, and sections of mouldings, sundry cards of tiling, ornamental fittings, &c., sent out by firms as advertisements to architects. On the right, by the window, is an architect's drawing-table, with a sheet of drawing-paper, tracing-paper, saucers of colour, and other usual requisites of an architect.The time is 11.30 on the morning after the preceding acts.As the curtain rises, the Westminster Clock-tower chimes the half-hour.Horaceis drawing at the table on right.
The scene representsHorace'soffice in Great College Street.
It is a small room, panelled in dark oak. On the left is an old mantelpiece in white and yellow marble. Beyond the fireplace is a door communicating withPringle'soffice. On the right is a recessed window, through which the top of an old grey wall with chevaux-de-frise and foliage above can be seen. At the back, on the right, is a door leading to the staircase. On the left of this door, an architect's cabinet, with narrow drawers for plans, &c. On the walls are plans and architectural drawings, a T-square or two, an office calendar, and sections of mouldings, sundry cards of tiling, ornamental fittings, &c., sent out by firms as advertisements to architects. On the right, by the window, is an architect's drawing-table, with a sheet of drawing-paper, tracing-paper, saucers of colour, and other usual requisites of an architect.
The time is 11.30 on the morning after the preceding acts.
As the curtain rises, the Westminster Clock-tower chimes the half-hour.
Horaceis drawing at the table on right.
Horace.
[To himself, looking at watch.] Half-past eleven already!—and I haven't heard fromeitherof them yet! [With some anxiety.] Very odd! Can anything have——? [There is a knock at the door on the left.Horaceturns with a slight start asPringleenters.] Oh, it's you, Pringle! [After a pause.] None the worse after last night, I hope?
Pringle.
[Very solemnly.] I am feeling no ill-effects atpresent. [Coming to centre of room.] Can I have a few words with you?
Horace.
[Going on designing.] Well, only averyfew. We may be interrupted at any moment. I've appointments withtwopeople this morning. Looks as if they'dbothoverslept themselves.
Pringle.
[Gravely, as he plants himself with his back to the fireplace.] I shall not detain you long. I merely wish to explain my position. When I accepted your invitation last night, I did so with the loyal intention of resigning myself, as cheerfully as possible, to your engagement to Miss Futvoye——
Horace.
[Wheeling his chair round so as to face him.] Instead of which you put a spoke in my wheel wheneveryou got the chance! Not behaving quite decently,wasit?
Pringle.
[Stiffly.] After last night, I cannot consideryouas an authority ondecency.
Horace.
Don't rub it in, Pringle!
Pringle.
As I was saying, I came prepared to leave the field to you—for I am not the sort of man to unsettle any girl's affections——
Horace.
That's your modesty, Pringle! You don't realise how dangerous youare!
Pringle.
[Ignoring this.] I was going to say—so long as she continues engaged toanother. But if Miss Sylvia doesn't recognise yet that you are utterly unworthy of her, she very soonwill. Thenmychance will come—and I've every intention of taking it.
Horace.
Sorry to discourage you, my dear Pringle—but your chance hasn't come yet, and it's not over likely to come at all.
[He turns to his work again.
[He turns to his work again.
Pringle.
She'll never marry you without her father's consent—and if you'd heard him last night in the cab——!
Horace.
[Easily.] I daresay. But he'll be very different this morning.
Pringle.
[Who has come nearer to him.] Why, you're not trusting to that trumpery seal of yours to convince him?
Horace.
No. I'm trusting to something—or rather somebody—[turning to him]—who will be more convincing than any seal.
Pringle.
It will take a good deal to reconcile him, or any of them, to such an extremely—er—Oriental interior as you rejoice in.
Horace.
The Oriental interior has gone, Pringle,—vanished into space!
Pringle.
Nonsense! How could solidly constructed halls like those vanish in a night?
Horace.
I don't pretend to knowhow—but theyhave, and that's enough forme!
[He returns to his drawing.
[He returns to his drawing.
Pringle.
[Going back to fireplace.] And this client of yours—hashevanished, too?
Horace.
Old Wackerbath? Oh, no; he's much too solid to vanish—he's only a trifle late!
Pringle.
I shouldn't make too sure of him.
Horace.
[Listening.] I fancy he's coming upstairs now. [Rises and goes to door at back, then stops with a sudden recollection.] Unless it's theotherone!
Pringle.
Theotherone? So you'vetwoclients!
Horace.
No, only one. The other—isn't a client. [Half to himself, as he comes down.] Awkward if they happened tomeet! I never thought of that! [There is a loud knock at the door to staircase.] Well, here'soneof 'em, anyhow! Come in! [Mr. Wackerbathopens the door, and stands on the threshold, breathing hard, and purple and speechless with rage.Horacegoes towards him.] ItisMr. Wackerbath! How do you do? [Pleasantly.] I was beginning to be afraid——[He noticesMr. Wackerbath'sexpression.] Eh? Has anything happened?
Mr. Wackerbath.
Happened, sir? Yes, somethinghashappened! Which you'll be good enough to explain—if youcan!
Horace.
Oh? [Turning toPringle.] Perhaps, Pringle, if you wouldn't mind——?
Pringle.
[Moving to the door on the left.] Oh, by all means!
Mr. Wackerbath.
[ToPringle.] Stop, sir! Don't you run away! For allIknow,youmay have had a hand in this disgraceful business!
Pringle.
[With dignity.] I occupy the adjoining office, sir, and I am in practice as an architect. But I have no business connection with Mr. Ventimore—none whatever.
[Offering to go.
[Offering to go.
Mr. Wackerbath.
You will oblige me by staying. I should like your opinion—as an architect—on the way I've been treated.
[He puts down his hat on the cabinet by the door.
[He puts down his hat on the cabinet by the door.
Pringle.
Oh, if Mr. Ventimore has no objection——
Horace.
Well—oh, stay if you think proper. [ToMr. Wackerbath,offering armchair on left of table.] Now, sir; if you'll sit down and compose yourself——
Mr. Wackerbath.
I willnotsit down, sir, and I find it difficult to compose myself. You know very wellwhy!
Horace.
I don't, indeed. Unless—unless you've discovered the—the means by which you were induced to come to me yesterday. But, after all, there's no greatharmdone.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Bursting with rage.] No great harm! You can stand there and tell methat!
Horace.
[Calmly.] Certainly. If you prefer to go to some other architect, you're perfectly free to do so.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Frantically.] Free!Free!!When the damned house isbuilt!
Horace and Pringle.
[Together, each starting back.] Built?
Mr. Wackerbath.
Built, sir, built! When my wife and I saw it on our way to the station this morning, we could hardly believe our eyes. But my coachman—who's not given to imagination—saw it as plain as we did. [Horacehears all this with stupefaction at first, and then with growing comprehension.] And, considering I only gave you the commission yesterday afternoon, I should like to know how the devil you managed to put up such a place in the time?
Pringle.
My dear sir, as a professional man, let me assure you it would be impossible—quite impossible. It must have been due to some effect of mirage.
Mr. Wackerbath.
Mirage, indeed! We got out of the carriage and climbed the slope and went all over the building! Are you going to tell me we've been all over amirage?
Horace.
[Half to himself.] Oh, the blithering old idiot!
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Turning on him suddenly.] Are you addressingme, sir?
Horace.
No, no; notyou! Of course not. [With a groan.]I told him, like a fool, where the site was—and he's done the rest during the night!
[The door at the back flies open, andFakrashappears. He is wearing a very tall hat with a wide flat brim, a frock-coat, baggy shepherd's plaid trousers fitting tightly over his ankles, and Oriental shoes.
[The door at the back flies open, andFakrashappears. He is wearing a very tall hat with a wide flat brim, a frock-coat, baggy shepherd's plaid trousers fitting tightly over his ankles, and Oriental shoes.
Fakrash.
Greeting to ye, O company!
[Mr. WackerbathandPringleturn in surprise.
[Mr. WackerbathandPringleturn in surprise.
Horace.
[Sinking helplessly into his chair; half to himself.] It's withyou, partner! [In an undertone toFakrash.] Take off your hat!
[Fakrashremoves his tall hat with both hands, and places it on the top ofMr. Wackerbath'shat.Mr. Wackerbath,annoyed, goes to cabinet and removes his own hat.
[Fakrashremoves his tall hat with both hands, and places it on the top ofMr. Wackerbath'shat.Mr. Wackerbath,annoyed, goes to cabinet and removes his own hat.
Fakrash.
[ToMr. Wackerbath.] If I mistake not, thou art the wealthy merchant for whom this my son hath undertaken to erect a mansion?
Mr. Wackerbath.
I am, sir. And you, I presume, are Mr. Ventimore, senior?
Horace.
No, he isn't—he's no relation ofmine!
Fakrash.
[ToMr. Wackerbath,proudly.] Is he not an architect of divine skill, and hath he not built thee a palace that might cause even the gall of a Sultan to burst with envy?
Mr. Wackerbath.
It very nearly mademeburst, sir, I can tell you that!
Fakrash.
I marvel not, for verily it is a lordly dwelling for such as thou.
Mr. Wackerbath.
"Lordly!"Youcan call it what you like.Icall it a tom-fool cross between the Brighton Pavilion and the Palm-house at Kew! No billiard-room—and not a sign of any drainage system! And you have the brass—the—the unblushing effrontery to expect me to accept it as a first-class country-house with every modern convenience!
Pringle.
Imustsay that, in all my professional experience, Inever——
Horace.
[Rising and approachingMr. Wackerbath.] I'd better explain, Mr. Wackerbath. It seems that myold—er—friend here has, with the mistaken notion that he was helping me, built this palace for you himself. I haven'tseenit—but, from what I know of his talents in that line, it can't be half a bad sort of place—in its way. And, anyhow, I shouldn't dream of making any charge under the circumstances. We make you apresentof it—perhaps you didn't understandthat? So, surely you will accept it in the—the spirit in which it was intended, what?
Mr. Wackerbath.
Acceptit! See the finest position in the neighbourhood occupied by a jerry-built Moorish nightmare? Be the laughing-stock of the whole county? They'd call it "Wackerbath's Folly"! I won't have it onmyland a day longer than I can help! I'll go to law, sir, andcompelyou and your officious partner here to pull the thing down! I—I'll fight the case as long as I can stand!
Fakrash.
[Who has been regarding him through this speech with glowering eyes.] "As long as thou canst stand"? That will be for no long period, O thou litigious one! [He points at him with his forefinger.] On all fours—[Mr. Wackerbathstarts in speechless indignation, and bends slightly forward]—thankless dog that thou art, and crawl henceforth for the remainder of thy days!
Mr. Wackerbath.
Howdareyou address me in that way, sir! How——[He suddenly drops forward on his hands.] I willnotgo down on all fours! Do you hear, sir? I will not!
Pringle.
[Horrified.] But—Great Heavens, sir, youareon all fours!
Horace.
[SeizingFakrash'sarm.] Now, Fakrash—just you stop this!
Fakrash.
[ShakingHoraceoff.] Let me be! [ToMr. Wackerbath.] Begone, O contemptible of aspect! To thy kennel!
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Almost whining, as he crawls distractedly about on all fours.] I can't! I won't! Ican'tcross Westminster Bridge like this! What will the officials think at Waterloo, where I've been known and respected for years? How am I to face my wife and family in—in my present position? Iinsiston getting up!
Pringle.
Then, my dear sir, whydon'tyou? Whyhumourhim?
Mr. Wackerbath.
Why, why? Because I can'thelpmyself! Damn it, sir, do you suppose I'm doing this for my own amusement? [ToFakrash.] Here, turn off your will-power, or whatever it is, and let me up!Dolet me up!
Horace.
[In disgust.] I'll nothaveit, Fakrash! Let him up at once!
Fakrash.
Far be this action from me! This son of a burnt dog hath dared to disdain a palace—therefore let his abode be in the dust for evermore!
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Crawling toHorace.] You—youquitemisunderstood me—I haven't awordto say against the palace. It's the very place Iwanted! [Crawling up toFakrash.] If—if you'll only let me up, I—I'lllivein it—'pon my honour I will!
Horace.
[With authority, toFakrash.] Let this unfortunate gentleman up, will you! Icommandyou. Both on the head and eye!
Fakrash.
[Sullenly, toHorace.] But for the magnitude of thy services——! Be it as thou wilt. [He extends his arm overMr. Wackerbath.] Rise! [Mr. Wackerbathrises and drops into chair by table, exhausted.] Depart, and show us the breadth of thy shoulders.
[Mr. Wackerbathgets up, puffing, and backs to the door.
[Mr. Wackerbathgets up, puffing, and backs to the door.
Horace.
[Going towards him with concern.] My dear sir, youmustbelieveI'vehad no share in this! I—I really don't know how to apologise——
Mr. Wackerbath.
[With his eyes onFakrash.] Don't mention it, sir,praydon't mention it. I am perfectly satisfied—perfectly!
Horace.
Youshallbe, very soon. Fakrash, clear that palace away at once. Sharp, now!
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Nervously, toFakrash.] No, no, I couldn't think of troubling you. I—I couldn'twishfor a more delightful residential mansion, I assure you!
Horace.
[Coming toFakrash.] I've told you to obliterate that palace, Fakrash. Am I to tell youtwice?
Fakrash.
Hath not this overfed father of dogs—[Mr. Wackerbathstarts, but controls his resentment immediately]—expressed his satisfaction with it?
Horace.
It won't do, Fakrash! Do as you're told—and be quick about it.
Fakrash.
Verily such a palace would but be defiled by his presence—therefore let it be annihilated. [He stalks to the window, which flies open at a wave of his hand, after which he faces it and mutters an incantation.]Pfpht! [All start.] It is accomplished. Of the palace and all the splendours therein there remaineth not a trace!
Horace.
[Going up toMr. Wackerbath.] Mr. Wackerbath, you will find on your return that thatisso. I've only to apologise once more for all the—er—inconvenience you've been put to.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Near the door.] Not at all—not at all, I assure you. [Turning toFakrash.] I haven't quite caught your name, my dear sir, but you must allow me to thank you for the—ah—very handsome manner in which you have met me.
Fakrash.
[With a menacing movement.] Begone, I say! [Mr. Wackerbathsnatches his hat from cabinet.] Or thou mayst find thyself in some yetmoreunfortunate predicament.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[At the door.] Quite so—quite so! Er—delightful weather, isn't it? [Opening door.] Good morning, gentlemen. [Fakrashmakes another movement.] Good morning.
[He goes out hurriedly.[Fakrashturns to the window and stands there with folded arms, looking out in sombre abstraction.PringleandHoraceare on the other side of the room.
[He goes out hurriedly.
[Fakrashturns to the window and stands there with folded arms, looking out in sombre abstraction.PringleandHoraceare on the other side of the room.
Pringle.
[Going towards the door to his office, and lowering his voice.] I don't think you'll see any more of Mr. Wackerbath afterthis.
Horace.
[In an undertone.] No, I've losthim—thanks to that old busybody over there. He's donemybusiness!
Pringle.
It serves you right for having him about. Where on earth did you pick him up? Whoishe?
Horace.
Surely you don't need to be told! Why, he's the old Jinnee who was inside the bottle.
Pringle.
Rats!—excuse the vulgarity!
Horace.
Hang it! Youmusthave noticedsomethingqueer about him!
Pringle.
Ihave—and ifhe'sthe person you're relying on to remove the Professor's objections, I think the old gentleman should be warned against seeing him.
[He goes into his office and shuts the door;Horacereturns to table, takes up the sheet on which he had been working, crumples it up, and flings it away.
[He goes into his office and shuts the door;Horacereturns to table, takes up the sheet on which he had been working, crumples it up, and flings it away.
Fakrash.
[Turns from window toHorace.] Receive news! Henceforth I shall cease to busy myself about thine affairs.
Horace.
[Sardonically.] That's the best news I've heard from you—so far.
Fakrash.
[Gloomily.] Uneasiness hath entered into my heart and I am sore troubled.
Horace.
So yououghtto be after your latest performance. I suppose you know you've wrecked my chances as an architect? But never mind that now—have you found time to look up the Professor yet?
Fakrash.
I have but lately parted from him.
[He comes to fireplace.
[He comes to fireplace.
Horace.
And you went to Cottesmore Gardens inthatkit? [Amused in spite of himself.] If you could onlyseeyourself!
Fakrash.
Didst thou not order me to assume such apparel as is worn in this city?
Horace.
I didn't say on the 5th of November! However, yousawhim. Did you get your seal back?
Fakrash.
Nay, for the sage protested that he had mislaid it!
Horace.
Oh, well, never mind—it'll turn up in time. What Ireallywant to know is whether you convinced him that you'd come out of the brass bottle?
Fakrash.
[Sombrely.] As to that I can tell thee naught. On hearing that I came from thee, he reviled me as a person of no reputation, and threatened to summon a certain constable and have me delivered into custody. Whereupon I took measures—[he smiles cunningly]—to ensure his silence.
Horace.
[Falling back in his chair in sudden terror.] His—silence! You—you olddevil! You—you've not—killedhim!
Fakrash.
Nay, nay, I have not so much as harmed a hair of his head.
Horace.
[Rising.] Phew! What a fright you gave me! [Moving towards fireplace, then turning.] But you've been up tosomedevilry or other—I'm sure of it. Whathaveyou done to him? Out with it!
Fakrash.
[Going up towards door.] It was necessary for my security to—[at door]—transform him into a one-eyed mule.
Horace.
[Petrified with horror.] A one-eyedwhat!
Fakrash.
[Walks through the door, then turns, remaining visible through the door panels.] A one-eyed mule of hideous appearance. Farewell to thee.
[He disappears;Horaceseizes his hat and rushes madly out as the curtain falls.
[He disappears;Horaceseizes his hat and rushes madly out as the curtain falls.
The scene represents the drawing-room at 47 Cottesmore Gardens, Kensington.It is a pleasant room, tastefully furnished. On the left a recessed fireplace, in which are ferns; on the mantelpiece are some large blue and white beakers and vases. On the right a bay-window and window-seat. The windows are wide open, showing window-boxes filled with scarlet geraniums and marguerites, and a quiet street with detached houses. At the back, on the right, is a door opening on the hall. To the left of this door are sliding-doors shutting off theProfessor'sstudy. In front of these sliding-doors is a long high backed sofa, completely covered in chintz, the flounce of which touches the floor. At the rising of the curtain these doors are closed. Behind them are curtains. Near the fireplace are an armchair and a small table. Against the wall, below the fireplace, is a cabinet. Between the sliding-doors and the door to the hall is another cabinet with door, which, when opened, shows shelves filled with ancient pottery. Above the bay-window is a bureau. Below it are a sofa and a small table.As the curtain risesMrs. Futvoyeis seen seated in chair by the fireplace, trying to do some embroidery, though her thoughts are evidently elsewhere. Frombehind the sliding-doors proceed sounds as of some animal kicking and plunging.
The scene represents the drawing-room at 47 Cottesmore Gardens, Kensington.
It is a pleasant room, tastefully furnished. On the left a recessed fireplace, in which are ferns; on the mantelpiece are some large blue and white beakers and vases. On the right a bay-window and window-seat. The windows are wide open, showing window-boxes filled with scarlet geraniums and marguerites, and a quiet street with detached houses. At the back, on the right, is a door opening on the hall. To the left of this door are sliding-doors shutting off theProfessor'sstudy. In front of these sliding-doors is a long high backed sofa, completely covered in chintz, the flounce of which touches the floor. At the rising of the curtain these doors are closed. Behind them are curtains. Near the fireplace are an armchair and a small table. Against the wall, below the fireplace, is a cabinet. Between the sliding-doors and the door to the hall is another cabinet with door, which, when opened, shows shelves filled with ancient pottery. Above the bay-window is a bureau. Below it are a sofa and a small table.
As the curtain risesMrs. Futvoyeis seen seated in chair by the fireplace, trying to do some embroidery, though her thoughts are evidently elsewhere. Frombehind the sliding-doors proceed sounds as of some animal kicking and plunging.
Sylvia'svoice is then heard crying: "Father, please don't!" [A succession of dull thuds as of battering hoofs.] "Oh,dotake care!"
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Lays down her work, rises, goes to the sliding-doors, and knocks.] Anthony!Don'tgo on like that, for goodness' sake! Youmusttry and control yourself! Justthink, if theservantsheard you! [Jessie,a neat parlour-maid in morning costume, pink print, cap, and apron, enters from hall;Mrs. Futvoyehurriedly leaves the sofa by the sliding-doors, goes back to her chair, and takes up her work with an elaborate assumption of perfect calm.] What is it, Jessie? I haven't rung.
Jessie.
I know, madam. But there's such a noise in the master's study I was afraid something had happened.
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Severely.] Then it was veryfoolishof you. Whatshouldhave happened? If you heardanything, it probably came from next door.
[Sounds of stamping from within sliding-doors, and then a noise as if some piece of furniture had been overturned.
[Sounds of stamping from within sliding-doors, and then a noise as if some piece of furniture had been overturned.
Jessie.
There it isagain, madam! And itdoesseem to come from the study!
[Sounds as before, rather louder.
[Sounds as before, rather louder.
Mrs. Futvoye.
Oh,that? That's nothing, nothing! The Professor is merely shifting some of the furniture.
Jessie.
[Evidently devoured by curiosity.] Won't he find it too much for him, madam? Perhaps I might be able to help.
[She makes a movement towards the sliding-doors.
[She makes a movement towards the sliding-doors.
Mrs. Futvoye.
You're not to go in there! You know your master allowsnobodyto touch his things. I can't have him disturbed.
[More stamping and banging—then a crash of broken glass.
[More stamping and banging—then a crash of broken glass.
Jessie.
He seems to be disturbing ofhimself, madam—just had an accident with something. Hadn't I better go in and clear it up?
[She again makes a movement towards the sliding-doors.
[She again makes a movement towards the sliding-doors.
Mrs. Futvoye.
Certainly not! Leave the room and attend to your work. [The front door bell rings.] Good gracious! the visitors' bell! Jessie, I'm not at home!Nobodyis at home!Whoeverit is, mind!
Jessie.
[Who has gone to the door leading to the hall and opened it, turns toMrs. Futvoye.] I forgot to mention it, madam, but after that foreign gentleman called to see the master this morning, I found there's something wrong with the catch of the front door—leastways, I can't get it to shut, do what I will.
[Pringlecomes in through the door whichJessieis holding open.
[Pringlecomes in through the door whichJessieis holding open.
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Rises and makes a step forward.] Mr. Pringle! You can go, Jessie.
[Jessiegoes out with an air of baffled curiosity.
[Jessiegoes out with an air of baffled curiosity.
Pringle.
[Shaking hands withMrs. Futvoye.] Pray excuse my coming in unannounced—but it's rather urgent.
Mrs. Futvoye.
How do you do, Mr. Pringle? [Indicating the sofa below the window.] Do sit down.
Pringle.
I feel reassured already. I had a dreadful apprehension that I might cometoo late.
Mrs. Futvoye.
[With a pathetic attempt to maintain appearances.] Half past twelve is surelyquiteearly enough. Not that I am anything but delighted to seeyou, atanytime.
Pringle.
You are very kind. [He sits down.] But—to be quite frank—I called to see the Professor. Could I have a word or two with him at once?
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Who has taken a chair near the sofa.] I'msosorry—but that's really impossible just now.
Pringle.
Indeed? I trust he is not unwell—after last night?
Mrs. Futvoye.
N—notunwellexactly. But—notquitehis usual self.
[More noise from study, andSylvia'svoice heard exclaiming: "Papa! Papa!"
[More noise from study, andSylvia'svoice heard exclaiming: "Papa! Papa!"
Pringle.
[Looking round.] He seems to be in his study,—and I thought I heard Miss Sylvia's voice.
Mrs. Futvoye.
Yes—yes—he—he's particularly busy this morning.
[Increased noise.
[Increased noise.
Pringle.
[Puzzled.] So it appears. But—[rising]—I wouldn't interrupt him for long, and it really ismostimportant.
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Rising in agitation.] I do assure you he can seenobodyat present.
[She seats herself, persuading him to sit down also.
[She seats herself, persuading him to sit down also.
Pringle.
But, Mrs. Futvoye,—if you knew what I have discovered——!
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Rising again.] Discovered!
Pringle.
About Ventimore. I want to put the Professor on his guard against receiving any—er—emissary from him.
Mrs. Futvoye.
[Slightly relieved.] Oh, he's not likely to dothat—he hasmuchmore important matters to think about!