[_Going from him towards right._] I had not then discovered thy treachery. HORACE. You're barking up the wrong tree, as usual, you know. Come--tell me what it's all about? FAKRASH. Not now. I will deal with thee hereafter, misbegotten cur that thou art! [_He stalks towards window._ MRS. FUTVOYE. [_From below fireplace, to HORACE._] You don't seem to be managing him very well _so_ far. PRINGLE. [_Coming down to HORACE._] You gave us to understand that he would do _anything_ for you. HORACE. So he will, generally--but not just now. [_Crossing to MRS. FUTVOYE and SYLVIA, while FAKRASH remains apart, with his back to the others._] He's suddenly turned nasty--I've no idea why. But I shall bring him round--in time. MRS. FUTVOYE. It's my _husband_ who has to be brought round--and there's no time to be lost! HORACE. I know--but if I press Fakrash in his present mood, I shall only make matters worse. PRINGLE. Well, if you can't--or _won't_--get him to do something, one of _us_ must try! Perhaps if Miss Sylvia could bring herself to appeal to his better feelings----? SYLVIA. [_Shrinking back._] People who come out of bottles can't _have_ better feelings! I couldn't--_really_, I couldn't. PRINGLE. You'd rather not? [_SYLVIA shudders._] Then I must see what _I_ can do. MRS. FUTVOYE. How _good_ of you! HORACE. [_Drawing PRINGLE back as he is going towards FAKRASH._] I _wouldn't_, Pringle! He's in a vile temper. And, unless you're _anxious_ to become a domestic animal of some sort---- SYLVIA. _Pray_ don't run such a risk, dear Mr. Pringle! PRINGLE. I shall be very careful, and I trust that, with ordinary tact----[_He makes a step towards FAKRASH._] Ahem! [_FAKRASH turns suddenly round with a feline snarl; all retreat to left; PRINGLE pulls himself together and tries again._] My--my dear sir, may I ask your attention for a few moments? FAKRASH. [_Striding towards him._] Who art _thou_?--a friend of yonder serpent's? HORACE. [_Indignantly._] Oh, I say! "Serpent," you know! "Serpent" is a bit---- [_FAKRASH ignores him._ PRINGLE. No, no, I repudiate him. I represent this unfortunate family--_they_ repudiate him too. MRS. FUTVOYE AND SYLVIA. [_Together._] Yes, yes, indeed--_indeed_ we do! [_HORACE sinks speechlessly on chair by sofa on right._ FAKRASH. [_To PRINGLE._] I will hearken unto thee, for indeed thou seemest a person of abundant intelligence and excellent conduct. PRINGLE. You're very kind--I hope I _am_. Hem! [_Going nearer FAKRASH._] I am sure, sir, that, if you had realised the serious embarrassment you have caused the members of this household by transforming its head into a one-eyed mule, you would never have allowed your--your sense of humour to carry you so far. FAKRASH. For mine own safety was it accomplished--for the sage threatened to deliver me into custody. HORACE.