[_As he raises his arms and moves towards the fireplace._] To escape into a bottle is pleasant! HORACE. Delightful! FAKRASH. [_Who is now behind the bottle, with his arms extended in supplication and his back to the audience._] Towbah yah nebbi ullah Anna lah amill Kathalik ibadan! Wullah hi! [_With the last words he disappears through the neck of the bottle._ HORACE. [_Standing by the bottle with the cap._] Tucked yourself in comfortably? Say _when_. [_There is a knock at the door leading to landing._ FAKRASH'S VOICE. [_From interior of bottle._] I am betrayed! The constables of Progress are without! Let me forth that I may slay them and secure safety! HORACE. [_Promptly clapping on the cap and screwing it tightly._] You're safer where you _are_, old cocky! Good-bye! [_Wipes his forehead._] Phew! Near thing that! [_The knock is repeated._] All right! Wait a bit! I'm busy! [_He takes the bottle into his bedroom._ RAPKIN'S VOICE. [_Outside door._] All right, sir! [_HORACE returns, goes to door at back, and unlocks it; to RAPKIN, who is seen with a telegram._] What is it? RAPKIN. [_Entering._] Reply telegram, sir. [_Handing it to HORACE._] Boy's waiting. HORACE. [_Reading the telegram._] "Can you dine with wife and self, Savoy Hotel, 8.15 to-night? Quite small party. Could discuss plans new house. Ask for 'Pinafore' Room.--Wackerbath." Good! _Wackerbath's_ all right, anyhow! [_He pulls a chair to the table and sits down to fill up the reply form. As he does so his face suddenly clouds._] The _Savoy_, though! Pringle's dining there to-night.... Good Lord! _I forgot all about Pringle!_ I wonder if Fakrash has made _him_ forget? If he _didn't_, by George! there'll be a pretty kettle of fish! RAPKIN. [_Thinking he is being addressed._] Beg pardon, sir? HORACE. Nothing--I wasn't speaking to _you_. [_Finishes writing the form and hands it to RAPKIN._] Can you read it? RAPKIN. [_Reading._] "Delighted. Savoy, 8.15 to-night.--Ventimore." Excuse me, sir, but _when_ is it you're expecting friends to dinner 'ere? HORACE. [_At a loss for the moment._] Er--_when_? I--I'm not sure. [_As he crosses to his bedroom._] Oh, just tell Mrs. Rapkin I should like to see her. [_He goes into bedroom._ RAPKIN. [_Looking round, as MRS. RAPKIN enters from landing._] Mr. Ventimore was just _asking_ for you, Marire. MRS. RAPKIN. [_Surprised._] Was he? I didn't know he'd come in. [_She crosses to the bookcase, places a newspaper on the shelf on left of fireplace, then goes to the windows and closes them._ RAPKIN. Nor yet me--but he 'ave. [_He goes out, leaving door open._ HORACE.