The monosyllable dropped like a flake of hot metal.
"I thought you might be after him," said the Saint. "Do you mind telling me if I'm right?"
Slowly she nodded. "You're quite right — Templar!"
The Saint beamed.
"That's one of the most sensible things I've heard you say," he remarked. "In fact, if you concentrated your attention on Waldstein you'd be doing yourself and everyone else much more good than you're doing at present. If your father was framed, Waldstein knows all about it. I'll tell you that. But what good you expect to do by simply making yourself a nuisance to the police force in general is more than my logical mind can see."
She pointed to the table.
"I suppose you've seen the papers?"
"We have. All about the inefficiency of the police. Of course, everybody doesn't know that I'm in charge of the situation. But does it give you the satisfaction you want?"
"It gives me some satisfaction."
"We are also amused," said Simon. "The chiefs of the C. I. D. meet together twice a day to roar with laughter over it… And I think that's all for today. I'll see you again soon. If you like, I'll drop you a line to say when I'm coming, so that you can arrange to be out."