Anthony groaned in irritation as the constable moved just out of his reach, but he did not give up. "Hope you choke to death on those words," he said through gritted teeth. He took one hand away to check his pockets yet again, but there was still nothing there. He had been hoping for his penknife to be there by some divine intevention or something, but no. Anthony was not a violent man, but if he did have a blade with him, he would probably stab this man without remorse. Maybe it was good that he didn't have it.