"I was only going for Lasser — I had to meet the Frenchman who supplies him and give him his money."
"My God," said the Saint. "I'd almost forgotten—"
He left her standing there and disappeared through the communicating door into the next room. In another moment he was back with the sealed envelope that Lasser had taken from her bag.
"Is this it?"
"Yes."
"I thought it was worth something the first time I saw it," said the Saint and slit it open with his thumbnail.
When he had counted the thick wad of bank notes that came out of it, his eyebrows were lifted and his eyes were laughing. He added it to the hundred pounds which he had recovered from Jopley and put it carefully away in his pocket.
"I can see we staged the showdown on the right evening," he said. "This will be some consolation to all of us when we divide it up." His eyes sobered on her again. "Lasser must have trusted you a good deal."
"I suppose he knew I was that sort of fool," she said bitterly.
"How did you get in with him?"