“I... I...” She put a hand as graceful as a calla lily against her forehead. “I... don’t know.”
“Oh, don’t let’s carry this too far.” It sounded more like himself again. “Where were you born, where did you go to school, who are your parents?”
She worried at him with wide, dark eyes.
“That’s just the trouble. I... don’t remember any childhood. I remember only my great-great-grandmother. I never saw her, of course, but she’s the only family I know about.”
Big Bill’s facial contortions finally caught the Saint’s eye. They were something to watch. His mouth worked like a corkscrew, his eyebrows did a can-can.
“I gather,” said the Saint mildly, “that you are giving me the hush-hush. I’m sorry, comrade, but I’m curious. Suppose you put in your two cents.”
“I told you once,” Big Bill said, “I told you the truth.”
“Pish,” Simon said. “Also, tush.”
“It’s true,” Big Bill insisted. “I wouldn’t lie to the Saint.”
The girl echoed this in a voice of awe.