"Jill, you should know me better than that!"
"But I never knew that this kind of thing was in your line."
"The righting of injustice, the strafing of the ungodly, and the succouring of a damsel in distress? Oh, Jill!.. Did you never hear of Galahad?"
"Ye-es."
"My stage name," said the Saint.
The match went out, and he leaned back on the cushions. His strength was sweeping back into him like a steady stream. He had already made certain that his ankle was not broken, and that was all that had really worried him. In a couple of days he would be prancing around like a puppy off the leash. He was almost satisfied.
"Of course," he murmured, "we have been criminally careless. We have been persistently bumping off the very birds who might have saved us a lot of trouble. I admit Essenden bumped himself off, but that was due to a misunderstanding. It's the principle of the thing. Jill, if we're going to vindicate Papa, we're going to have to be awful careful we don't bounce Number Three on the programme before he's sung his song."
"We shall."
"And then," said the Saint dreamily, "you'll have your hands full looking after that boy friend back in Gee, Wis., won't you?"
There was a silence.