So sorry! Mrs. Futvoye, shall we——?
[He helps Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia to rise. Pringle has also risen; the Professor remains on his cushion.
Professor Futvoye.
I should be glad of some slight assistance.
[Sylvia comes to him; Horace and Mrs. Futvoye are by the divan on the left.
Pringle.
[Crossing in front of table.] Allow me, Professor, allow me!
[He helps him to his feet.
Professor Futvoye.
Thank you, Pringle, thank you. A word with you—[drawing him away to the right, while Sylvia joins her mother and Horace up on the left.]—Pringle. [Lowering his voice.] I declare to you that never, never have I been called upon to swallow a more repulsive and generally villainous meal! And that in a life which has had its—ah—ups and downs!