[_Coming to FAKRASH._] I've told you to obliterate that palace, Fakrash. Am I to tell you _twice_? FAKRASH. Hath not this overfed father of dogs--[_MR. WACKERBATH starts, but controls his resentment immediately_]--expressed his satisfaction with it? HORACE. It won't do, Fakrash! Do as you're told--and be quick about it. FAKRASH. Verily such a palace would but be defiled by his presence--therefore let it be annihilated. [_He stalks to the window, which flies open at a wave of his hand, after which he faces it and mutters an incantation._] Pfpht! [_All start._] It is accomplished. Of the palace and all the splendours therein there remaineth not a trace! HORACE. [_Going up to MR. WACKERBATH._] Mr. Wackerbath, you will find on your return that that _is_ so. I've only to apologise once more for all the--er--inconvenience you've been put to. MR. WACKERBATH. [_Near the door._] Not at all--not at all, I assure you. [_Turning to_ FAKRASH._] I haven't quite caught your name, my dear sir, but you must allow me to thank you for the--ah--very handsome manner in which you have met me. FAKRASH. [_With a menacing movement._] Begone, I say! [_MR. WACKERBATH snatches his hat from cabinet._] Or thou mayst find thyself in some yet _more_ unfortunate predicament. MR. WACKERBATH. [_At the door._] Quite so--quite so! Er--delightful weather, isn't it? [_Opening door._] Good morning, gentlemen. [_FAKRASH makes another movement._] Good morning. [_He goes out hurriedly._ [_FAKRASH turns to the window and stands there with folded arms, looking out in sombre abstraction. PRINGLE and HORACE are on the other side of the room._ PRINGLE. [_Going towards the door to his office, and lowering his voice._] I don't think you'll see any more of Mr. Wackerbath after _this_. HORACE. [_In an undertone._] No, I've lost _him_--thanks to that old busybody over there. He's done _my_ business! PRINGLE. It serves you right for having him about. Where on earth did you pick him up? Who _is_ he? HORACE. Surely you don't need to be told! Why, he's the old Jinnee who was inside the bottle. PRINGLE. Rats!--excuse the vulgarity! HORACE. Hang it! You _must_ have noticed _something_ queer about him! PRINGLE. I _have_--and if _he's_ the person you're relying on to remove the Professor's objections, I think the old gentleman should be warned against seeing him. [_He goes into his office and shuts the door; HORACE returns to table, takes up the sheet on which he had been working, crumples it up, and flings it away._ FAKRASH. [_Turns from window to HORACE._] Receive news! Henceforth I shall cease to busy myself about thine affairs. HORACE.