Gabriel still didn't look at Crane as he returned to the place where he had been cutting vegetables. "Please, have a seat," he gestured, looking at the chair rather than the constable. Would it be rude to work while he was speaking? He'd probably end up cutting himself anyway. And so he just stood over the table, hands near the cutting board, waiting for Crane to sit. One hand drew together, as if to make a fist, but he stopped himself midway.