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 to Mr. Wackerbath.] Mr. Wackerbath, you will find on your return that that is so. 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 to Fakrash.] 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. Wackerbath snatches his hat from cabinet.] Or thou mayst find thyself in some yet more unfortunate predicament.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[At the door.] Quite so—quite so! Er—delightful weather, isn't it? [Opening door.] Good morning, gentlemen. [Fakrash makes another movement.] Good morning.
[He goes out hurriedly.