Nelson looked back and grinned.
Ahead to his left over the park wall some distance away Simon could see the broad terminus of Lenox Avenue coming into view. Directly in front of them, through the trees, he caught the gleam of the lake that lies at the northern end of the park. The park road swoops sharply to the right at this point, paralleling the lake for a distance as it winds southward again.
The easy purr of an approaching car blended against and quickly drowned out the sound of the Saint’s car hugging the edge of the road. The overtaking car accelerated as it came up to them and whooshed past, disappearing round the curve some distance ahead.
The Saint looked after it thoughtfully. Only two private cars had passed them since they’d started running — and both of them had been this same big limousine with the curtained windows.
“I hope you won’t be too busy the day after the fight,” Nelson said, glancing at him.
The Saint pondered his remark for a moment.
“That all depends. Why?”
“Connie and I have set the date for our wedding. Will you be my best man?”
The Saint’s quick, warm smile sparkled at him. “It’ll be a pleasure, Steve.”
Nelson slapped him on the back as they jogged along.