"And the new vocabulary, Peter? Did you get that out of a book?"
The Saint's mocking blue eyes swerved down from the ceiling and aimed directly at the other's face. Peter went red.
"I think I did get it from her," he said. "But that's nothing."
Simon picked up the soap and lathered his legs thoughtfully.
"In the preliminary palaver of that Star of Mandalay affair, she told me she was about to retire."
"I don't see why she shouldn't," said Peter judicially.
"I don't see why anyone shouldn't retire," said the Saint, "when they've made a useful pile. Look at you."
"Why look at me?"
"You've done pretty well since we teamed up. About forty thousand quid, I make it."
These chronicles have only attempted a few incidents in the Saint's career that were distinguished by some odd twist of luck or circumstance or ingenuity. His crimes were always legion; and it is often hard for the historian to select the exploits which seem most worthy of commemoration.