“I... I do hope you’ll forgive my calling you at this hour,” Constance Grady apologised hurriedly. “I called several times after I... I thought you might have gotten home, but there was no answer.”
“I just got in,” Simon explained. “I didn’t have a chance to call you right after the fight as I’d promised, and I thought it was rather late to phone you now. But,” he added quickly, “I’m glad you called. Thanks for the tickets.”
“Thank you for using them.” She hesitated, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “You... you saw what happened...”
“Yes. Very interesting.”
A slight pause.
“Daddy—” she began, and stopped. “My father came home a few minutes ago. He’s very upset. I... I made an excuse that I had to go on to an all-night drug store on the corner to get some aspirin. I’m talking to you from there.”
“I see.” The Saint’s voice was speculative. “Naturally, he would be upset by tonight’s accident.”
“Accident?... Yes, I know.” She hesitated again. “There was something else... something about you and that... that man you call Hoppy...”
“Oh?”
“You went into the Masked Angel’s dressing-room after the fight. Daddy said there was a brawl.”