"Delighted, my dear sir," said the knight, somewhat plaintively. "But if you'd told me I could have got hold of some girls —"
"Never mind the girls," said Simon.
He arrived at the lodgings in Seymour Street where Sir Ambrose maintained his modest bachelor pied-a-terre half an hour later, and plunged into his business without preliminaries.
"I've come to buy your Buddha," he said. "Two thousand was what your uncle wanted, wasn't it?"
Sir Ambrose goggled at him for some seconds; and then he laughed feebly.
"Ho, ho, ho! I bought that one, didn't I, by gad! Getting a bit slow on the uptake, what? Never mind, sir — have a drink."
"I'm not being comic," said the Saint. "I want your Buddha and I'll give you two thousand for it. I backed sixteen losers last week, and if I don't get a good mascot I shall be in the bankruptcy court."
After several minutes he was able to convince Sir Ambrose that his lunacy, if inexplicable, was backed up by a ready chequebook. He wrote the figures with a flourish, and Sir Ambrose found himself fumbling for a piece of paper and a stamp to make out the receipt.
Simon read the document through — it was typical.
Received from Mr. Simon Templar, by cheque, the sum of Two Thousand Pounds, being payment for a Brass Buddha which he knows is only worth fifteen shillings. Ambrose Grange.