Pringle.
You're extremely kind—but I think perhaps I shall be better at home.
Mrs. Futvoye.
[In a motherly tone.] I'm sure you will, dear Mr. Pringle. What you ought to do is to go to bed and get a good night's sleep.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Obviously relieved.] Ah, well, I won't insist—I won't insist. Perhaps you will give us some other evening?
Pringle.
[With extreme stiffness.] I'm obliged to you—but I dine out very seldom. Good-night. [He crosses to Mrs. Futvoye and shakes hands with her, and bows to Mr. and Mrs. Wackerbath, after which Mr. Wackerbath takes Mrs. Futvoye up to the glazed balcony to see the river, which by this time is in bright moonlight, the Professor, after having said good-night to Pringle, following with Mrs. Wackerbath. Pringle then turns to Sylvia, who is standing on the extreme left.] Good-night, Miss Sylvia. May I offer my congratulations? I can only hope that you may be as happy—as happy as—as possible.
[Faint waltz music is heard from the restaurant.
Sylvia.