"My Auntie Ethel," said the Saint blandly. "She left just before you came in. Isn't it a pity? Still, maybe you'll be able to meet her another day."
"How old is this Auntie Ethel?"
"About fifty," said the Saint. "A bit young for you, but you might try your luck. I'll send you her address. She might like to see round Rochester Row."
Teal took his hands out of his pockets and locomoted across the room. Only a man like Teal can possibly be said to locomote.
This locomotion was deceptive. It appeared to be very heavy off the mark, and very slow and clumsy in transit, but actually it was remarkably agile. Teal picked a bag up from the chair and inspected it soberly.
"Your Auntie Ethel has a gaudy taste in bags," he remarked. "How old did you say she was?"
"About a hundred and fifty," said the Saint.
Teal opened the bag and proceeded to examine the contents, extracting them one by one, and laying them on the table after the inspection. Lipstick, powder puff, mirror, comb case, handkerchief, cigarette case, gold pencil, some visiting cards.
"Princess Selina von Rupprecht," Teal read off one of the visiting cards. "Where does she come from?"
"Lithuania," said the Saint fluently. "I have some very distinguished relations in Czecho-Slovakia, too," he added modestly.