[Drily.] I found it wasn't necessary. How are you, Professor? [With the air of a host.] Delighted to see you.
Professor Futvoye.
[Shaking hands perfunctorily.] Oh, how are you, my boy, how are you? [Turning his shoulder on Pringle, and continuing to Mr. Wackerbath, as they go up together towards the table, ignoring Pringle.] Wackerbath, about this house of yours?—do I understand that Ventimore is——?
[They talk in dumb show, and during the next few speeches the First Waiter enters, and Mr. Wackerbath gives him an order, after which the Waiter goes out and returns with two cocktails. The Professor sits by the table and Mr. Wackerbath stands as they drink. Pringle meanwhile has returned to the corner of the flower-stand and is no longer able to control his temper.
Pringle.
[To Sylvia, with elaborate sarcasm, as he offers his hand, which she does not see at first.] Good evening, Miss Sylvia, it's really about time that I reminded you of my humble existence.
Sylvia.
[With slightly raised eyebrows, as she shakes hands.] Oh, how do you do, Mr. Pringle? I didn't see you come in.
[Horace sits by in silence, feeling powerless to stop Pringle at present.
Pringle.