“Tea will help,” Mr Butler whispered to Dot, pulling out her chair. She nodded, feeling more at ease, though still not quite sure where to look. She decided the safest course of action was to resume her sewing, and had just picked up her needle when Miss Fisher entered the kitchen.
Never afraid to make an entrance, Miss Fisher swept into the room, divining in a glance all that had occurred in a way Dot almost envied. “I’ve called Mac, she’s on her way. Now, tell me what happened with the gang.” She settled herself against the table, facing Cec and Bert, clearly ready for a full explanation of their evening.
Dot bit back a reproving hiss. Surely it wasn’t right to ask now, before the doctor had even come? But Miss Fisher knew best, and she wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.
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