Well, if you can't—or won't—get him to do something, one of us must try! Perhaps if Miss Sylvia could bring herself to appeal to his better feelings——?
Sylvia.
[Shrinking back.] People who come out of bottles can't have better feelings! I couldn't—really, I couldn't.
Pringle.
You'd rather not? [Sylvia shudders.] Then I must see what I can do.
Mrs. Futvoye.
How good of you!
Horace.
[Drawing Pringle back as he is going towards Fakrash.] I wouldn't, Pringle! He's in a vile temper. And, unless you're anxious to become a domestic animal of some sort——
Sylvia.