The Saint Meets His Match

by Charteris Leslie

"I know."

"But we go on with the good work, so why worry?"

She nodded slowly.

"Yes, we go on. Maybe it won't be long now."

"And that boy of yours?"

"He thinks I'm travelling around improving my mind." She laughed. "I suppose I am, if you look at it that way…"

And there was a silence.

And in that simple silence began an understanding that needed no explanations. For the Saint always knew exactly what to leave unsaid… And when, presently, he reached out a long arm to crush his last cigarette into an ashtray, glanced at the clock, and stood up, the movement fitted spontaneously into the comfortable quiet which had settled down upon the evening.

"Do you realize," he said easily, "that's it's nearly midnight, and we've had a busy day?"

Her smile thanked him, and he remembered it after she had left the room and he sat by the fire smoking a final cigarette and meditating the events of the last twenty-four hours.