"Well, what is it, Weald?"
"The Saint's on the train! I've just seen him."
She stopped in the act of fitting a cigarette into a holder.
"The Saint? You're dreaming."
He shook his head. The hand with which he offered her a match was shaking.
"I tell you I saw him. He spoke to me. He's in a compartment three divisions back from ours. I don't know how he got away, but he's done it."
The girl's eyes narrowed.
"It's that man Dyson. Heavens, Templar's clever! You were listening when he warned me about Dyson, weren't you? And we took it just the way the Saint meant us to take it. Dyson's done the double-cross."
"And Pinky—?"
"Pinky's a back number."