A SOLEMN GENTLEMAN (_struggling with a troublesome cough, who is also provided with Hare, reading aloud to his wife_). "Further enhanced by--rook--rook--rook!--a largely-made--rook--ook!--farm-servant, leaning on a ork-ork--ork--ork--or--ook!--basket. Shall I--ork!--go on?" HIS WIFE. Yes, dear, do, _please_! It makes one notice things so _much_ more! [_The_ SOLEMN GENTLEMAN _goes on_. MISS P. (_as they reach the staircase_). Now just look at this Titian, Mr. Podbury! Ruskin particularly mentions it. Do note the mean and petty folds of the drapery, and compare them with those in the Tintorets in there. PODB. (_obediently_). Yes, I will,--a--did you mean _now_--and will it take me long, because---- [MISS PRENDERGAST _sweeps on scornfully_. PODB. (_following, with a desperate effort to be intelligent_). They don't seem to have any Fiammingoes here. MISS P. (_freezingly, over her shoulder_). Any _what_, Mr. Podbury? Flamingoes? PODB. (_confidently, having noted down the name at the Accademia on his shirt-cuff_). No, "Ignoto Fiammingo," don't you know. I like that chap's style--what I call thoroughly Venetian. [_Well-informed persons in front overhear and smile._ MISS P. (_annoyed_). That is rather strange--because "Ignoto Fiammingo" happens to be merely the Italian for "an unknown Fleming," Mr. Podbury. [_Collapse of_ PODBURY. BOB. (_aside to_ PODBURY). You great owl, you came a cropper _that_ time! [_He and_ PODBURY _indulge in a subdued bear-fight up the stairs, after which they enter the Upper Hall in a state of preternatural solemnity_. THE SOLEMN G. Now what _I_ want to see, my dear, is the ork--ork--angel that Ruskin thinks Tintoretto painted the day after he saw a rook--kic--kic--kic--kingfisher. [BOB _nudges_ PODBURY, _who resists temptation heroically_. [Illustration: A SOLEMN GENTLEMAN STRUGGLING WITH A TROUBLESOME COUGH.] MISS P. (_reading_).... "the fig-tree which, by a curious caprice, has golden ribs to all its leaves."--Do you see the ribs, Mr. Podbury? PODB. (_feebly_). Y--yes. I _believe_ I do. Think they grew that sort of fig-tree formerly, or is it--a--_allegorical_? MISS P. (_receiving this query in crushing silence_). The ceiling requires careful study. Look at that oblong panel in the centre--with the fiery serpents, which Ruskin finely compares to "winged lampreys." You're not looking in the right way to see them, Mr. Podbury! PODB. (_faintly_). I--I did see them--_all_ of them, on my honour I did! But it gives me such a crick in my neck! MISS P. Surely Tintoret is worth a crick in the neck. Did you observe "the intense delight in biting expressed in their eyes"? BOB. (_frivolously_). _I_ did, 'Patia--exactly the same look I observed last night, in a mosquito's eye. [PODBURY _has to use his handkerchief violently_.