"All right." He stops in his tracks with a sharp, dramatic, inhalation, positive that the jig is up.

"Look, I got a little carried away with myself, and I know I shouldn't have because it's your work, but I just --I couldn't help myself." His hands fly out of his pockets, held up in a 'mea culpa' fashion.

"But you know, being the kind of club it is, I thought that it was what she was after" --hideous lies-- "but I realised I'd probably get carried away with myself, so I went to Gutters instead. There. Are you happy now?"

This will surely be interesting.