Release us! But, my dear Mr. Pringle, when we've assured you——
Pringle.
[Interrupting her with chilly magnanimity.] Pray say no more. I quite understand the situation—quite.
[Mrs. Futvoye rejoins Sylvia, while Mr. Wackerbath, who has gradually drawn nearer, now comes forward genially.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[To Pringle.] I think, sir, we can find a simple way out of this little difficulty. If you will waive the point of my being—ah—personally unknown to you, and give my wife and myself the pleasure of joining our little party—[the others suppress their dismay]—we shall all be happy.
Pringle.
Well, Mr. Wackerbath, if you think it will contribute to the general gaiety, I—I don't mind if I do join your party.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Astonished, and with a touch of hauteur.] H'm! That's very obliging of you! [Looking round.] Where are those waiter-fellows?