The Saint Meets His Match (She was a Lady)

"And yet . . . you remember when you reminded me of that boy of mine back in the States?" The golden eyes absorbed his smile. "That was a mean crack ... I sup­pose I deserved it."

"You did."

"It made a difference."

Simon raised his eyebrows; but the mockery was with­out malice.

"After which," he murmured, "you shot Stephen Weald."

"Wouldn't you have done the same?"

"I should. Exactly the same. And that's the point. You might have left it to me, but I stood aside because I figured he was your onion. . . . Which was half-witted, if you come to think of it, because if we'd kept him we could have made him squeal. But who am I to spoil sport."

"I know."

"But we go on with the good work, so why worry?"

She nodded slowly.

"Yes, we go on. Maybe it won't be long now."

"And that boy of yours?"

"He thinks I'm travelling around improving my mind." She laughed. "I suppose I am, if you look at it that way. . . ."

And there was a silence.

And in that simple silence began an understanding that needed no explanations. For the Saint always knew exactly what to leave unsaid. . . . And when, presently, he reached out a long arm to crush his last cigarette into an ashtray, glanced at the clock, and stood up, the move­ment fitted spontaneously into the comfortable quiet which had settled down upon the evening.

"Do you realize," he said easily, "that's it's nearly mid­night, and we've had a busy day?"

Her smile thanked him, and he remembered it after she had left the room and he sat by the fire smoking a final cigarette and meditating the events of the last twen­ty-four hours.

Adventures to the adventurous. Simon Templar called himself an adventurer. What other people called him is nobody's business. Certainly he had had what he want­ed, in more ways than one, and the standard of enterprise and achievement which he had set himself from the very beginning of his career showed no signs of slacking off. It was only recently that he had started to realize that there was more for him to do in life than he had ever known. . . . And yet, just then, he was quite contented. Simon Templar's philosophical outlook on life was his strong suit. It kept him young. As long as something interesting was happening he was quite happy. He was quite happy that night.