"You're not off your chump? You don't remember how you wore a big hat and recited limericks to Charles the First?"
"Well No. Not much. And, Masters, for the love of Esau stop drivellin'. This is a murder case. And I'm scared."
"You?"
"Me," returned H.M, with all the impressiveness this conveyed. "We've got to act fast, son. If we can keep this feller," he pointed to Martin, "if we can keep him alive for just me more night…"
(Again that sense of hatred, gathering round and pressing against him! Martin, weak from lack of the food he told Ruth tie hated, sat down and lit a cigarette whose smoke made his lead swim.)
"If we can do that," said Masters, "he's out of danger?"
"Not necessarily. But a certain innocent-looker will be occupied with other things. Well be the attackers and not standin' at defence. Now, son!" H.M. pointed. "When you first barged in here tonight, I asked you whether you'd got the stuff. You said you'd got all of it Where is it?"
Masters indicated the chair where lay his bowler hat, the brief-case, and the brown cardboard folder. '
"You don't want to go through all that tonight do you?"
"I don't want to go through any of it Masters. I only want to ask you a question."