These are only my private rooms. I shall be at my office in Great College Street to-morrow, if you could look in then. [Giving him card.] Here's the address.
Mr. Wackerbath.
Good! [He rises and moves towards window, while Horace rings bell by fireplace.] I'll look in on my way from Waterloo to the City. [He perceives that he is walking out on to a balcony, and turns.] How the devil did I come in? I'll be with you at eleven sharp.
[He goes towards the bedroom door on the right.
Horace.
[At door to landing.] This way, Mr. Wackerbath.
Mr. Wackerbath.
[Vaguely.] I thought I came that way. [As he goes up.] I can see already that you're the very man for me. [At door to landing.] Now I must be off, or I shall miss my train to Lipsfield. [As Horace offers to see him downstairs.] Don't trouble—I can find my way down. Eleven sharp to-morrow. Good evening.
[As he passes out Horace touches his back, as though half suspecting him to be another illusion. Mr. Wackerbath turns and shakes hands effusively, then goes out, and Horace closes door.
Horace.