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[In an indignant undertone.] Father!
[To Sylvia, flattered.] Delighted to think I've been missed! But my apparent – er – neglect has been quite unavoidable.
[Laughing.] So kind of you to relieve our minds, Mr. Pringle!
[Solemnly.] I assure you it's the fact. I've been away constantly for the last two months, superintending work I'm doing in various parts of the country. [With importance.] Hardly a moment to call my own!
[Taking chair behind table.] A busy man like you, my dear Pringle, has no need to make excuses.
[Fetching a chair for himself.] I really have been fearfully overworked. Not that I complain of that! [As he sits down between the Professor and Sylvia.] I'd no idea we should meet here, though. Is Ventimore a friend of yours?
Oh, we know him, yes. As you do, it seems.
I sublet a room in my offices to him. Rather a good arrangement for him, because he gets experience by looking after any little matters that I've no time to attend to.
[With suppressed resentment.] And isn't that rather a good arrangement for you?
It works fairly well – as a rule. But when I returned from the country this afternoon I found he hadn't been near the office all day!
[To his wife, but speaking at Sylvia.] Not been near the office all day! I thought as much!
The reason why he wasn't able to help you, Mr. Pringle, is because he's been at an auction, bidding for things on father's account.
I should have attended the sale myself but for an engagement to lecture at the Hieroglyphical on a recently inscribed cylinder.
And – you'll hardly believe it, Mr. Pringle, – but, the moment the lecture was over, he hurried us off here to find out what Mr. Ventimore had got for him! It's really too ridiculous! As if his study wasn't littered up quite enough already!
Women, my dear Pringle, can't understand the feelings of a collector. It's not every day, I can tell you, that a collection of such importance comes into the market.
I didn't know Ventimore was an expert in such things. I thought you could get brokers to bid for you.
Of course – of course. But I don't trust brokers – they know too much! And, as I gave Ventimore my own catalogue, with a tick against the lots I want and the limit I'm prepared to go, noted on the margin, he can't make any mistake.
I suppose not. That is, if he's accustomed to auctions.
What do you mean?
Only that if you aren't, there's always a liability to lose your head in the excitement, and go beyond the margin. But I daresay Ventimore wouldn't do that.
If he has! [He rises excitedly.] And he might – he might! With his recklessness about money, it's the very thing he would do! Letting me in for prices I can't afford! [Passionately.] No wonder he is in no hurry to show himself – no wonder!
[Rising and attempting to pacify him.] Now, Anthony, there's nothing to work yourself up into a state for, at present. Do for goodness' sake wait till you hear all about it!
[Resentfully.] It seems I shall have to wait, Sophia – but I'm tired of waiting here. [He goes to get his hat and stick.] And evidently he doesn't intend to —
I say! This is jolly! [Shaking hands.] Wish I'd known you were coming on here after the lecture. [Pringle rises, and waits stiffly for recognition.] Warm work, wasn't it, Professor, lecturing on an afternoon like this? Do sit down. [Looks at table.] Haven't they given you any tea?
[Irritably.] No, no, no. We want no tea. It's too late for tea. We merely looked in on our way home to —
[Sees Pringle.] And Pringle, too! [Pats him on shoulder.] How are you, old fellow? You been at the lecture, too?
[With implied rebuke.] No, I've only just come round – as you weren't at the office, – to —
I've been engaged all day. Oh, by the bye, do you know Professor and Mrs. —
[Stiffly.] I am happy to say, my dear fellow, that I require no introduction. We are old friends.
[Impatiently.] To come to the point, Ventimore, as we are rather pressed for time – about the sale? How did you get on, eh?
Oh, ah – the sale. [Producing catalogue from pocket.] Well, I did exactly as you told me.
[Snatching catalogue from him.] Yes, yes. Let's go through it lot by lot. Lot 23, now. Did you get that?
No. Another fellow got that.
[Annoyed.] Tssch! Well, – so long as you secured Lot 35. [Reading from catalogue.] "Copper bowl, engraved round rim with verse from Hafiz," you know. Come, you didn't miss that?
I did, though. It was snapped up by a sportsman in the very worst hat I ever saw in my life. He got it for sixteen guineas.
[Disgusted.] What? A rare example of early Persian work like that going for only sixteen guineas! I'd willingly have paid double the money!
But your limit was seven pound ten, sir! And you warned me not to exceed it.
You should have used your own judgment, sir! Well, well, – which of the lots I marked did you get?
[Going to Sylvia, who is sympathetically distressed.] Couldn't get one of 'em. They all fetched record prices.
[Violently.] Upon my soul!.. Pringle, you were right! I ought to have employed a broker! [To Horace.] So you've come back with absolutely nothing?
Well, no. I did manage to get one thing.
I knew you would!
[To Horace.] You did? But I understood you to say just now – !
This was a little flutter on my own account. I thought I'd stick the sale out, do you see; and near the end there was an extra lot put up – it