…suet roly-poly — spotted monkey, my kiddie calls it — bathed in butter sauce. Now, to tell you the truth, sir, its lather a favourite pudding of mine, still they need not have given me half of it. And then, sir, when I had helped the last piece down with my fork and was feeling like a stuffed Christmas stocking, on came dessert and wine.”What! You won’t have a glass of port?”Mrs. Montague cried, looking at me with a pained expression in her big, innocent blue eyes. ‘Oh, you must have one, Constable, just one! Come, you can’t refuse a lady!’”The sergeant, ma’am!’ I gasped, for I could hardly articulate a sound owing to the pudding and — potatoes; ‘ if the sergeant smells port, ma’am, I shall be discharged!’”You needn’t be afraid of that. Constable,” Mrs. Montague laughed. ‘We will give you some peppermints, which I can guarantee will…