"… But to tell you the truth, Mrs. Perrigord," said
Morgan, leaning confidingly over her chair, "I heard that disturbance, too; and, though I can't say, since of course I wasn't there, you understand…"
"Oh, quayte!" said Mrs. Perrigord, relaxing a good deal and much less stiffly indicating that he had her royal ear. "Yes?"
"… still, I should have said it sounded less like — well, shall we say Dionysian revelry? — than simply a free-for-all scrap. Er, fisticuffs, you know," explained Morgan, seeking the highbrow mot juste. "Especially as (if you'll forgive my saying so, Mrs. Perrigord) that a lady of your charm and knowledge of refinements in sensual indulgence would probably take a light view of men's and women's frailties if only they were staged with any degree of delicacy. Furthermore—"
"Well, no, reaolly!" said Mrs. Perrigord, looking arch. "Come now, Mr. Morgan, you can scarcely expect muh to agree altogether with that, can you? Heh-heh-heh!"
"Sure! Absolutely, Mrs. Perrigord!" said Warren. He perceived that Hank: was trying to win the old girl over, and stoutly tried to help the good work along. "We know you're a good sport. Absolutely. Remember what the travelling salesman said to the farmer's daughter."
"Shut up," said Morgan out of the corner of his mouth. "And naturally I suppose this idea of a fight occurred to you, too. Gad! I wonder you didn't get up and bolt the door, Mrs. Perrigord, in case those drunken ba — ah — in case those revellers should decide—"
"But I did!" cried Mrs. Perrigord. "Oh, the doah was bolted, I assuah you! From the very first moment I heard a woman's voice imploring someone to — to strike someone ageyne, it was bolted. I did not close an eye oil night. I can most certainly tell you that no one came into the cabin."
(Well, that tore it. Morgan glanced at his companions. Peggy looked upset. Warren angry and mystified. The puzzle was growing worse jumbled and also it was Mr. Perrigord who now seemed to be giving the nasty looks. Morgan felt that they had better go off and cool their before going up for the interview with Captain Whistler. He prepared some discreet words…)
tell me," said Mrs. Perrigord, apparently struck an idea. "Someone said— are you the Mr. Morgan writes the detective stories?" "Why — er — yes. Yes, I believe so. Thank you very much, Mrs. Perrigord, and you too, sir. It's been delightful to have made your acquaintance, and I only hope we shall have the opportunity—"