Conscience is a matter of perspective…
One of the advantages of a life of penury is that your conscience is unlikely to complain when you finally manage to put food on the table. A conscience that finally has its mouth full is strangely muted. Thus my conscience is remarkably flexible in certain areas.
There was the case of the missing brisket. I was walking through Schooner’s View square and turned down Butchers’ Walk. Several butchers have their stalls there and I was immediately drawn to the commotion coming from one of them. Two women, housekeepers by their dress, where both tugging on the same horrocks brisket.