[Standing behind table.] Perhaps he went back to his office?
Professor Futvoye.
[Tartly.] He's much more likely to have dropped into his club for a rubber of Bridge!
Sylvia.
Don't you think you're rather ungrateful to grumble at poor Horace like this, after he's given up a whole day's work to oblige you?
Professor Futvoye.
I was not aware, my dear, that he has, or ever had, a day's work to give up! Correct me if I am wrong—but I am under the impression that nobody has employed him as an architect yet.
Sylvia.
That isn't Horace's fault!
Professor Futvoye.