"No, don't you trouble yourself," said the terrible man. "I'll walk upstairs where you're sitting yourself, if you've no objections."
Leander dared not make any, and he ushered the detective upstairs accordingly.
"Ha!" said the latter, throwing a quick eye round the little room. "Nice little crib you've got here. Keep everything you want on the premises, eh? Find those cupboards very convenient, I dare say?"
"Very," said Leander (like the innocent Joseph Surface that he was); "oh, very convenient, sir." He tried to keep his eyes from resting too consciously upon the fatal door that held his secret.
"Keep your coal and your wine and spirits there?" said the detective. (Was he watching his countenance, or not?)
"Y—yes," said Leander; "leastways, in one of them. Will you take anything, sir?"
"Thank 'ee, Tweddle; I don't mind if I do. And what do you keep in the other one, now?"
"The other?" said the poor man. "Oh, odd things!" (He certainly had one odd thing in it.)
After the officer had chosen and mixed his spirits and water, he began: "Now, you know what's brought me here, don't you?"
("If he was sure, he wouldn't try to pump me," argued Leander. "I won't throw up just yet.")