Horace.
You see, dear, you don't understand how it all came about yet. If you'd only let me tell you——
Sylvia.
I think you had much better say no more about it.
Horace.
Ah, but I can't! I must get it off my chest. [Before he can begin the slaves enter once more, and shift the divans on either side to lower and rather more oblique positions, after which the Head Slave approaches Horace, and makes signs.] What do you want?
Sylvia.
[Clinging to Horace.] Oh, don't let him come too near me!
Horace.
[As the Chief Slave repeats the signs.] He sha'n't, darling—but he's quite friendly. He's only suggesting that we should sit down.