'Serves him right,' said Miss Hare, reluctantly letting Wilt breathe again. He stumbled to a basin and turned the tap on.
'Wilt,' said the Principal, 'what is the meaning of this?' But Wilt had his false tooth out again and was trying desperately to wash his mouth out under the tap.
'Hadn't we better wait for the police before he makes a statement?' asked Miss Hare.
'The police?' squawked the Principal and the V-P simultaneously. 'You're not seriously suggesting the police should be called in to deal with this...er...affair.'
'I am,' Wilt mumbled from the basin. Even Miss Hare looked startled.
'You are?' she said. 'You have the nerve to come in here and peer at...'
'Balls,' said Wilt, whose tongue seemed to be resuming its normal size, though it still tasted like a recently sterilized toilet bend.
'How dare you,' shouted Miss Hare, and was on the point of getting to grips with him again when the V-P intervened.
'I think we should hear Wilt's version before we do anything hasty, don't you?'
Miss Hare obviously didn't, but she stopped in her tracks. 'I've already told you precisely what he was doing,' she said.
'Yes, well let me tell you what...'
'He was bending over and looking under the door,' continued Miss Hare remorselessly.
'Wasn't,' said Wilt.
'Don't you dare lie. I always knew you were a pervert. Remember that revolting incident with the doll?' she said, appealing to the Principal. The Principal didn't need reminding but it was Wilt who answered.
'Mrs Bristol,' he mumbled, dabbing his nose with a paper towel, 'Mrs Bristol's the one who started this.'
'Mrs Bristol?'
'Wilt's secretary,' explained the V-P.
'Are you suggesting you were looking for your secretary in here?' asked the Principal. 'Is that what you're saying?'
'No, I'm not. I'm saying Mrs Bristol will tell you why I was here and I want you to hear it from her before that damned bulldozer on anabolic steroids starts knocking hell out of me again.'
'I'm not standing here being insulted by a...'
'Then you'd better pull your skirt up,' said the V-P, whose sympathies were entirely with Wilt.
The little group made their way up the stairs, past a class of English A-level students who'd just ended an hour with Mr Gallen on The Pastoral Element in Wordsworth's Prelude, and were consequently unprepared for the urban element of Wilt's bleeding nose. Nor was Mrs Bristol. 'Oh dear, Mr Wilt, what have you done to yourself?' she asked. 'She didn't attack you?'
'Tell them,' said Wilt. 'You tell them.'
'Tell them what?'
'What you told me,' snapped Wilt, but Mrs Bristol was too concerned about his condition and the Principal and the V-P's presence had unnerved her. 'You mean about'
'I mean...Never mind what I mean,' said Wilt lividly, 'just tell them what I was doing in the Ladies' lavatory, that's all.'
Mrs Bristol's face registered even more confusion. 'But I don't know,' she said, 'I wasn't there.'
'I know you weren't there, dammit. What they want to know is why I was.'
'Well...' Mrs Bristol began, and lost her nerve again, 'Haven't you told them?'
'Caesar's ghost,' said Wilt, 'can't you just spit it out. Here I am accused of being a Peeping
