"That's enough," said Patricia.
"That's what I thought," said the Saint. "However…"
He grinned and sat down beside her. Even under the mask of irrepressible flippancy which rarely left him she could feel the keyed alertness vibrating within him like a charge of electricity.
"What's been happening?" she asked.
"I've been on a party."
Graham's eyes beamed behind his glasses.
"Did you see Ingleston?"
"Oh yes. And very handsome he looked. You did a lovely job on the back of his head."
"I did a—"
"No, I don't really believe that. But I just wanted to see how you'd take it, to make sure." Simon reached for the cigarette box. "Somebody else did, though. In the course of a long and wide experience I've rarely seen a head bashed in with so much thoroughness. I shouldn't be surprised if they found his brains coming out through his eyes when they turned him over."