"You're in trouble," he said; "is there anything I can do for you?"
Chelda found her voice. The exigencies of the case demanded nerve and coolness. "I am not in trouble," she said.
"You are," he replied, bluntly, "and I know what it is. I expect you feel pretty well ashamed of yourself, but it's never too late to turn. Give up this sort of business," and he scornfully pointed his thumb over his shoulder.
"What do you mean?"
"Picking and feeling round other people's property."
"Do you dare to insinuate that I have been doing so?"
"It looks mighty like it," he said, slightly uplifting his shoulders.
"If my aunt chooses to go out and leave an unlocked drawer, you have no right to assail me with base suspicions."
"Did your aunt go and leave an unlocked drawer?"
"Ask her."