Harold closed the door and hid behind the frame, peering out between the letterbox and the open/closed sign. “I can’t see her,” he said.
“Who?” Jasfoup sauntered across and stood in full view of the window, supporting his mug of tea with both hands as he inhaled the steam. “I can’t see anyone.”
“Good.” Harold relaxed. “It was a religious freak,” he said. “She wanted me to see God.”
“Oh you didn’t…” Jasfoup looked amused.
“I did.” Harold grinned sheepishly. “I couldn’t help it. I said I’d already seen him and that he cheated at chess.”
“I bet that went down well.”
“Not really.” Harold missed the sarcasm. “She denounced me as a heretic. I’ve got a bunch of Mormons wanting to lynch me now.”