[She hesitates for a moment as to which arch to go out by, and finally goes out by the one on right of central arch.
Horace.
[Outside.] Rapkin, I say! [Then entering from the lower arch on right as soon as Mrs. Rapkin has gone; he is wearing a richly embroidered Oriental robe, &c., and a jewelled turban and plume, of which he is entirely unconscious.] Oh, there you are! Don't stand there gaping like a fish at a flower-show! Where the deuce are my evening clothes?
Rapkin.
[Staring at him.] I don't know if it's 'nother opt'cal d'lusion—but you appear t' me to ha' gorrem on.
Horace.
Eh, what? Nonsense! [Suddenly discovering that he is in a robe and turban.] Hang it! I can't dine in these things! Just see if you can't find—no, there's no time. You haven't changed yet! Look sharp, the people will be here in a minute or two—you must be ready to open the door to them.
Rapkin.
[Looking round the hall.] I don't seem to see no doors—on'y arches. I can't open a arch—even if it would stay still.
Horace.