In a few sentences he let her know as much as he knew himself; and while he was speaking he rummaged in the nearest side pocket of the car. He found what he was looking for — a chauffeur's blue cap — and set it at an angle on her curly head.
"I'll be back in a minute," he said.
When he re-entered the flat Lady Valerie Woodchester was dressed. She came out of the bedroom carrying a small valise.
"What's happened to everyone?" she asked in surprise.
"Peter and Hoppy have removed the exhibits," he said irrepressibly. "They'll get what's coming to them somewhere else. We didn't want to make any more mess for you here."
The edges of pearly teeth showed on her underlip.
"Could you call me a taxi?"
"I could do better. I sent for one of my more ducal cars, and it's waiting outside now. You won't mind if I see you as far as the Carlton, will you? I don't want you to be put to the trouble of having to call me out again tonight."
For a moment he thought she was going to lose her temper, and almost hoped that she would. But she turned her back on him and sailed out into the corridor without a word. He followed her into the elevator, and they rode down in supercharged silence. At the door he helped her into the Daimler and settled himself beside her. The car moved off.
They drove a couple of blocks without a word being spoken. Lady Valerie stared moodily out of the window on her side, scowling and biting her lips. The Saint was bubbling inside.