"You've been-,?!" Then he remembered it was rude to interrupt so he shut up. Mrs. Meijer was a fierce one, but he had a hard time imagining her drunk arguing with officers. It didn't earn her any respect in his books, for a mental image immediately forced its way before his mind's eye of his mother, too drunk to stand, only half dressed in her inebriated state, arguing with a constable while making lewd comments loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear. He could still feel the shame merely remembering it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Meijer," he said, trying to push the uncomfortable memory from his mind. "I suppose James could be more help and we'll be alright. I'm not sure where he ran off to this time, but I can look for 'im and tell 'im to stay."