And I gave him a surreptitious wink to indicate that he should endorse this innocent version of our encounter.
Unluckily, at this point Kate turned her back and began to titter.
The overfed eye of Fisher moved slowly from one to the other of us.
“I came down here,” he said, “at my friend Miss Clibborn's request to—ah—satisfy myself of the usefulness of her mission. Is this a mission—or what is it?”
“It is a mission,” replied Kate, trying hard to sober herself. “We are doing ex—ex—cellent work.”
But at that point she had recourse to her handkerchief.
“Our work, sir,” I interposed, “is doing an incalculable amount of benefit. It is the most philanthropic, the most judicious—”
I stopped for the good reason that I could no longer make myself heard. There was a noise of altercation and scuffling outside our door that startled even the phlegmatic Fisher.
“What on earth is this?” he demanded.
The door opened violently.