Sylvia.
[Shrinking back.] "All four!" Then—you know!
Pringle.
Pardon me—but I couldn't help catching a glimpse just now—through these doors.
Sylvia.
A glimpse? What did you—suppose you saw?
Pringle.
I had an impression—of course I may be quite wrong!—that any one who didn't know your father might almost mistake him, at first sight, for—I am trying to put it as delicately as I can—for some kind of—er—quadruped.
[He sits on sofa beside her.
Sylvia.