Thou canst surely say that they are presents to thee from Fakrash-el-Aamash, a Jinnee of the Green Jinn, in return for thy kindness in releasing him from a bottle of brass.
Horace.
Oh, can I? I fancy I see myself giving that explanation! [More mildly.] No, Fakrash,—you meant well—but the kindest thing you can do is to remove all this at once——
Fakrash.
This is a thing that cannot be. For to bestow gifts and receive them back disgraceth the giver.
Horace.
Not when the gifts are only in the way. [He nearly trips over a sack.] Just look at this room!
Fakrash.
Verily it is but a miserable apartment for a person of thy distinction!
Horace.