Sylvia.
Then mother was right! I'd fearful misgivings that it was for last night, and that somehow we'd forgotten all about it. Wouldn't that have been too dreadful of us?
Horace.
Oh, I—I don't know. I mean—I could have forgiven even that.
Professor Futvoye.
Ah, now I think of it—[interposing between Sylvia and Horace, and drawing him apart, while Sylvia goes up towards the table]—did you find time to attend that sale for me yesterday?
Horace.
[Blankly.] Oh, yes. I attended it.
Professor Futvoye.
We called at your rooms yesterday afternoon, but you weren't in, so we didn't wait for you. Now tell me—[anxiously]—did you get any of those lots for me, or didn't you?