Mullett inclined his head resignedly.
"I was afraid of this, sir. The moment that flat-footed cop came on to this roof, I had a presentiment that there was going to be trouble. But I should appreciate it very much if you could see your way to reconsider, sir. I can assure you that I have completely reformed."
"Religion?"
"No, sir. Love."
The word seemed to touch some hidden chord in George Finch. The stern, set look vanished from his face. He gazed at his companion almost meltingly.
"Mullett! Do you love?"
"I do, indeed, sir. Fanny's her name, sir. Fanny Welch. She's a pickpocket."
"A pickpocket!"
"Yes, sir. And one of the smartest girls in the business. She could take your watch out of your waistcoat, and you'd be prepared to swear she hadn't been within a yard of you. It's almost an art, sir. But she's promised to go straight, if I will, and now I'm saving up to buy the furniture. So I do hope, sir, that you will reconsider. It would set me back if I fell out of a place just now."
George wrinkled his forehead.