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.