"Say no more about it," muttered Fuller, obviously under the impression that he was gracefully bringing matters to a conclusion.
"Ah, but one word more I must say," Edna interposed quickly. "You know, I'm afraid I must hold quite, quite firm about the presentation. Or perhaps I had better tell Mr. Cooper that, much as I appreciate having been consulted, I prefer to withdraw from his committee."
Fuller's bulldog jaw was set hard.
"That's as you like, of course."
If Edna had not expected such a rejoinder, the tremor with which she received it was all but imperceptible.
"I'm sorry we don't see things in the same light," she said sweetly, "and I can't tell you how heartily glad I should be to find myself in the wrong about poor Miss Marchrose."
She hesitated for a moment, but neither the voice nor the expression of Mr. Fairfax Fuller appeared to denote any readiness to resume a discussion previously so much fraught with verbal disaster. So Edna, almost hearing herself pause to think, "Is it kind, is it wise, is it true?" said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Fuller," with perfect cordiality, and descended the stairs, unescorted by the Supervisor.
On the doorstep she encountered old Alderman Bellew, who greeted her with the more cordiality that he had expected to find Sir Julian, of whom he was rather afraid.
"Seeing the car outside, I thought Sir Julian might have run in for a moment on business, and I was anxious to see him. But it'll keep—it'll very well keep. I've had a little walk for nothing, that's all, and it won't do me any harm."
The obese old man was panting.