"The others are upstairs having a business conference or something." She studied him with fresh and candid interest. "Where have you been all the afternoon? You simply seemed to vanish off the face of the globe. I was afraid I should have to go back to town without seeing you again."
"Then why go back to town?" he asked. "You could come over and join us at Peter Quentin's. There's a spare bed and a dart board and plenty to drink, and we could see lots more of each other."
For a moment she looked a little hesitant. Then she shook her head quite decidedly.
"I couldn't do that. After all, two's company and all that sort of thing, you know, and anyhow I don't think it would be good for you to see much more of me than you did when we first met." A little smile touched her lips and gleamed in her dark eyes. "Besides, I'm quite sure Algy Fairweather wouldn't like it. He's been warning me against you. For some reason or other he doesn't seem to approve of you an awful lot."
"You amaze me," said the Saint solemnly. "But does it matter whether Comrade Fairweather approves or not?"
"Well," she said, "a girl has to struggle along somehow, and Comrade Fairweather is a great help. I mean, if he has a man coming to dinner, for instance, and he doesn't want him to concentrate too hard on business, he asks me along and pays me for it. And then I probably have to have a new dress as well, because of course you can't stop a businessman concentrating in an old piece of sackcloth, and I never seem to have any new clothes when I need them."
"In other words, you're his tame vamp, I take it."
She opened her eyes wide at him.
"Do you think I'm tame?"
The Saint surveyed her appraisingly. Again he experienced the bafflement of trying to probe beyond that pert childish beauty.