which showed a degree of circumspection that made Simon Templar greet her with more than ordinary watchfulness.
'Angela, darling!' he murmured with an air of pleased surprise. 'I never thought I should see you in these rural parts. When did you decide to study bird life in the suburbs ?'
'It came over me suddenly, last night,' she said. 'I began to realize that I'd missed something.'
His eyes were quizzically sympathetic.
'You shouldn't be too discouraged. I don't think you missed it by more than a couple of inches.'
'Perhaps not. But a miss is——'
'I know. As good as in the bush.'
'Exactly.'
He smiled at her, and offered the cigarette box. She took one, and he gave her a light. His movements and his tone of voice were almost glisteningly smooth with exaggerated elegance. He was enjoying his act immensely.
'A drink?' he suggested; but she shook her head.
'It mightn't be very good for me, so I won't risk it. Besides, I want to try and make a good impression.'
He was studying her more critically than he had been able to the night before, and it seemed to him that Patricia's description of her was a little less than absolutely fair. She had one of those modern streamlined figures that look boyish until they are examined closely, when they prove to have the same fundamental curves that grandma used to have. Her mouth and eyes were effective enough, even if the effect was deplorable from a moral standpoint. And although it was true that even a comparatively unworldly observer would scarcely have hesitated for a moment over placing her in her correct category, it was also very definitely true that if all the other members of that category had looked like her, Mr Ebenezer Hogsbotham would have found himself burning a very solitary candle in a jubilantly naughty world.
The Saint went on looking at her with amiable amusement at the imaginative vistas opened up by the train of thought. He said: 'You must have made quite an impression on Comrade Verdean. And you drank champagne with him at Brighton.'
She put her cigarette to her lips and drew lightly at it while she gazed at him for a second or two in silence. Her face was perfectly composed, but her eyes were fractionally narrowed.
'I'll give you that one,' she said at length. 'We've been wondering just how much you really knew. Would you care to tell me the rest, or would that be asking too much?'
'Why, of course,' said the Saint obligingly. 'If you're interested. It isn't as if I'd be telling you anything you don't know already.'
He sat down and stretched out his long legs. He looked at the ceiling. He was bluffing, but he felt sure enough of his ground.
'Kaskin and Dolf picked up Verdean on his holiday at Eastbourne,' he said. 'Kaskin can make himself easy to like when he wants to—it's his stock in trade. They threw you in for an added attraction. Verdean fell for it all. He was having a swell time with a bunch of good fellows. And you were fairly swooning into his manly arms. It made him feel grand, and a little bit dizzy. He had to live up to it. Kaskin was a sporty gent, and Verdean was ready to show that he was a sporty gent too. They got him to backing horses, and he always backed winners. Money poured into his lap. He felt even grander. It went to his head—where it was meant to go. He left his boardinghouse, and pranced off to Brighton with you on a wild and gorgeous jag.'
Simon reached for a cigarette.
'Then,
