For the first time a sharp note came into Budd's rather unctuous voice: "I don't show my books to anyone!"
Hannasyde looked at him under frowning brows. "Is that so?" he said.
Mr. Budd lost some of his colour. A rather sickly smile was brought into action. "Now, don't get me wrong! Be fair, Mr. Hannasyde! That's all I ask of you. Be fair! If it was to get about I'd shown my books to a soul outside this office I should lose half my clients."
"It won't," said Hannasyde.
"Ah, if I could be sure of that!"
"You can be."
"Well, look here, Mr. Hannasyde, I'm a reasonable man, and if you show me a warrant, I've nothing to say. But if you haven't got one, I'm not showing my books to you. Why should I? There's no reason. But the instant you walk in here with a warrant you won't find me making trouble."
"If you're wise you won't make trouble under any circumstances," said Hannasyde. "I'll see your books now."
"You can't do it," said Budd, doggedly staring into his eyes. "You can't come that high-handed stuff in my office. I won't put up with it."
"Do you realise," said Hannasyde sternly, "the position you are in? I am giving you a chance to clear yourself of suspicion of -'