The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

These large men in very plain clothes were among the trials of his life which Simon Templar endured with the exemplary patience with which he faced all his tribula­tions. Ever since his first brush with the law, on and off, he had been favoured with these attentions; and the en­tertainment which he had at first derived from this silent persecution was beginning to lose its zest. It was not that the continual watching annoyed him, or even cramped his style to any noticeable extent; but he was starting to find it somewhat tiresome to have to shake off a couple of inquisitive shadowers every time he wanted to go about any really private business. If he made a private appoint­ment for midday, for instance, at a point ten minutes away from home, he had to set out to keep it half an hour earlier than he need have done, simply to give himself time to ditch a couple of doggedly unsuccessful blood­hounds; and this waste of time pained his efficient soul. More than once he had contemplated addressing a com­plaint to the Chief Commissioner of Police for the Me­tropolis on the subject.

That day, he had a private appointment at noon; and, as has been explained, he allowed himself half an hour to dispose of the watchers. He disposed of them as a matter of fact, in twenty minutes, which was good going. He did not dispose of Duodecimo Gugliemi—partly because Gug­liemi was rather more supple of intuition than the two detectives, and partly because he was unaware of Gug­liemi's existence. So soon as he found that the two large men had fallen out of the procession, he went on to his appointment by a direct and normal route, in ignorance of the fact that Duodecimo was still on his heels.