What else can I do?
Horace.
What else? Why, trust me, stick to me—in spite of everything and everybody!
Sylvia.
After what I've just seen! No, that's too much to expect!—unless, of course, you've some satisfactory explanation?
Horace.
Well, I have—if you'll all promise to listen to it—you wouldn't when I tried to explain before, you know. Now you must hear me out! [They all prepare to listen attentively.] It's like this. Sylvia wasn't far wrong about that beastly jar I bought this afternoon—there was a Jinnee inside it.
| Professor Futvoye. | All speaking together. | ||
| What? How dare you, sir—how dare you trifle with us like this? | ) | ||
| Mrs. Futvoye. | |||
| Disgraceful! To stand there talking such nonsense—at such a time! | ) | ||
| Sylvia. | |||
| Turning it all into a joke! Oh, how can you—how can you? | ) | ||
| Pringle. | |||
| Upon my word, Ventimore, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! | ) | ||
Horace.
There you are, you see! You won't give me a hearing! I ought to know what was inside the bottle, considering I let it out. Fakrash-el—what did he tell me his name was?—oh, Aamash—Fakrash-el-Aamash. He's a Jinnee. Of the Green Jinn.