Nor could he with any decency present himself again at Cottesmore Gardens while the situation still remained unchanged, as it must do until he had seen Fakrash.
When would the Jinnee return, or—horrible suspicion!—did he never intend to return at all?
"Fakrash!" he groaned aloud, "you can't really mean to leave me in such a regular deuce of a hole as this?"
"At thy service!" said a well-known voice behind him, and he turned to see the Jinnee standing smiling on the hearthrug—and at this accomplishment of his dearest desire all his indignation surged back.
"Oh, there you are!" he said irritably. "Where on earth have you been all this time?"
"Nowhere on earth," was the bland reply; "but in the regions of the air, seeking to promote thy welfare."
"If you have been as brilliantly successful up there as you have down here," retorted Horace, "I have much to thank you for."
"I am more than repaid," answered the Jinnee, who, like many highly estimable persons, was almost impervious to irony, "by such assurances of thy gratitude."
"I'm not grateful," said Horace, fuming. "I'm devilish annoyed!"
"Well hath it been written," replied the Jinnee:—