He smiled at Lasser with all the carefree and unruffled ease that only reached its airiest perfection with him when the corner was tightest and the odds were too astronomical to be worth brooding over.
"What does it feel like to be a master mind?" he enquired interestedly.
Lasser beamed back at him, with his rich jolly face shining as if it had been freshly scrubbed.
"I've read a lot about you," he said, "so I knew I should have to make a special effort. In fact I'm not too proud to admit that I've picked up a few tips from the stories I've heard of you. Naturally when I knew who our distinguished opponent was I tried not to disappoint him."
"You haven't," said the Saint cordially. "Except that I may have expected a larger deputation of welcome."
His gaze drifted over the assembly with the mildest and most apologetic hint of criticism. Besides Lasser there was only Jopley and one other man, presumably the gatekeeper — a short, thick-set individual with a cast in one eye and an unshaven chin that gave him a vicious and sinister aspect which was almost too conventional to be true. There was also Brenda Marlow, who came into the room last and sat on the arm of a chair near the door, watching from the background with an expression that the Saint couldn't quite analyze.
"I think there are enough of us," said Lasser blandly. He turned to Jopley. "You searched them all thoroughly?"
The man grunted an affirmative, and Lasser's glance passed fleetingly over Peter Quentin and Hoppy and glowed on the Saint again.
"You can put your hands down," he said. "It will be more comfortable for you. And sit down if you want to." He tugged at the lobe of his ear absentmindedly while the Saint turned a chair round and relaxed in it, crossing his legs. "Ah — about this deputation of welcome. Yes. I had thought of giving you more of a show, but I decided not to. You see, I brought you here to talk over some more or less private business, and I thought that the fewer people who knew about it the better. You have rather a persuasive way with you, Mr Templar, so Jopley tells me, and I shouldn't want you to tempt any more of my employees. Will you have a drink?"
"I'd love one," said the Saint graciously, and Lasser turned to the villainous specimen with the unshaven chin.