Try and understand that this is a British town, and we don't settle our affairs by jumping from a violin rhapsody to a knife or a gun." He jerked his head backwards towards the wall.

"Those things are for ornament, not for use.

Come, Fawe, have a drink and go home like a good citizen for one night only." The Romany hesitated, then shook his head and muttered chaotically.
"Very well," was the decisive reply.

Ingolby pressed a bell, and, in an instant, Jim Beadle was in the room.

He had evidently been at the keyhole.