"I see you have noticed our host's confidant?" Harry Fisher murmured, sidling up besides her. "Slater is here too. Dressed in his Sunday best." He said dryly, taking a swallow from his glass. It was his fifth or sixth, but it seemed of little matter.
"Is there a private corner I may have a word in your ear, Miss Mosley?" He added, setting down his glass and offering her his hand. "Just for a moment, but I feel it might be important."