[On left, outside door above arch.] This must be the room, Sophia—I observe "Pinafore" on the door.
Pringle.
[In a triumphant undertone to Horace, who is completely staggered.] There! Who's right now? I knew they wouldn't forget!
[He advances to the end of the sofa by fireplace to receive the Futvoyes, while Horace effaces himself so far as possible in the corner behind the flower-stand.
Horace.
[To himself in despair.] That old fool of a Fakrash! He's muffed it again!
[The Futvoyes enter; Mrs. Futvoye first, then Sylvia, and the Professor bringing up the rear.
Pringle.
[Cheerily, to Mrs. Futvoye.] Aha!