“She’s up to too much of this sort of thing to suit my book,” said the landlord, with a disagreeable change of manner. “I don’t keep your kind of shop, mister. No, she’s not up, and she’s not in.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“I believe you do.”
“Will you please to get out, now, or shall I call the police?”
“I will save you the trouble,” said Gilead. In fact he had observed the approach on the moment of a constable known to him. “Gregory,” he said, “will you come here a minute. This person is pleased to question my credentials. I only ask you to convince him.”
“O! I’ll convince him sharp enough, Mr Balm, sir,” said the officer.
“I meant no offence,” said the landlord, in an injured voice.
“You have given none,” said Gilead. “On the contrary, I gather some reassurance from your manner. Only you jump too hastily to conclusions, Mr —?”
“Nolan,” said the constable.