Mrs. Rapkin.
[As she goes towards door at back.] Well, I must say and I do say that if this 'ad to 'appen, it couldn't have come more ill-convenient! [She goes out.
[As soon as she has gone Horace rises and comes to an antique-looking trunk on left; he opens it, and brings out an enormous emerald and ruby, each the size of a cocoa-nut; he looks at them for a moment in dismay, and drops them back with a groan. Then he crosses to a sack on the right, opens it, and brings out an immense diamond. While he is doing all this, Fakrash has risen from among the bales behind the table, and watches him with benign complacency.
Horace.
[As he returns the diamond to the sack.] Oh! damn it all!
Fakrash.
My son!
Horace.
[Recoiling on sacks.] I'm not dreaming now! I'm awake! And yet—all that story of yours about your being shut up in a brass bottle? I did dream that—eh?
Fakrash.