"He's gone for his warrant," said the Saint. "Cast your bread upon the waters, and you shall find it after many days. We can thank your Angels of Doom for that. If you hadn't made the police so unpopular, Teal would have risked the search without a warrant. As it is, we've got a few minutes' grace, which may run into two hours. Pardon me."
He went through into the bedroom and selected a coat from his wardrobe. He returned with this, and a pillow from the bed.
"Keep over on that side of the room."
She obeyed, perplexedly. He pushed an armchair over against the window, put the pillow inside the coat he had brought, and sat coat and pillow in the chair.
"Now — where's your hat?"
He found the hat, and propped it up over the coat on a walking stick. Then he carried over a small table and set it beside the chair; and on the table he put a small lamp. After a calculating survey, he switched on the small lamp.
"Now turn out that switch beside you."
She did as she was told; and the only light left in the room came from the small lamp on the table by the armchair against the window.
"The Shadow on the Blind," said the Saint. "A Mystery in Three Acts. Act One."
She looked at him.