Mr. Riley-Werkheimer walked past me to take a closer look at the seat, almost treading on my toes rather than to give an inch to me.
"How can you prove that it's the genuine article?" he demanded curtly.
"You have my word for it, sir," I said quietly.
"Pish tush!" said he.
Mr. Rocksworth turned in the direction of the banquet hall.
"Carrie!" he shouted. "Come here a minute, will you?"
"Don't shout like that, Orson," came back from the porcelain closet. "You almost made me drop this thing."
"Well, drop it, and come on. This is important."
I wiped the moisture from my brow and respectfully put my clenched fists into my pockets.
A minute later, three females appeared on the scene, all of them dusting their hands and curling their noses in disgust.