"Yes, Mr. Twist?" he said, settling down again. "You were inquiring what the hell—?"
"Well, I was about to," said Mr. Twist, suddenly soothed, "but you're so calm—"
"Of course I'm calm. I'm a quietly married man."
"I don't see what that's got to do with it."
"Everything. For some dispositions, everything. Mine is one. Yours is another."
"Well, I guess I've not come here to talk about marriage. What I want to know is why—"
"Quite so," said the lawyer, as he stopped. "And I can tell you. It's because your inn is suspected of being run in the interests of the German Government."
A deep silence fell upon the room. The lawyer watched Mr. Twist with a detached and highly intelligent interest. Mr. Twist stared at the lawyer, his kind, lavish lips fallen apart. Anger had left him. This blow excluded anger. There was only room in him for blank astonishment.
"You know about my teapot?" he said at last.
"Try me again, Mr. Twist."