Frid looked towards the far end of the room, where the constable’s red head showed over the back of his chair. “Do you agree to all that?” she said loudly. The constable, slightly startled, got to his feet.
“I beg your pardon, Miss?”
“It would be grand,” Frid said, “if we knew your name.”
“Martin, Miss.”
“Oh. Well, Mr. Martin, I asked if you would say innocent people are as safe as houses, no matter how fishy things may look?”
“Yes, Miss,” said the constable.
“My good ass,” said Henry, glaring at Frid, “who looks fishy?”
“Henry, don’t speak like that to Frid.”
“I’m sorry, Mama, but honestly! Frid is.”
“I’m not,” said Frid. “We all look fishy. Don’t we?” she demanded of the constable. “Don’t we look as fishy as Billingsgate?”