The girl admitted the fact grimly. She was calm about it.
"Why do you think the Saint is in this, Jill?"
"Who knows why the Saint does anything? You've read the stories in the newspapers — he was pardoned, and now he seems to be working right in with the police… But you're right. This isn't like any ordinary racket of the Saint's."
"What are we going to do?" asked Weald tremblingly.
"I'll tell you in a minute," she said. "Keep quiet, and don't bother me."
She drew at her cigarette, looking out of the window at the darkening scenery. It was some time before she looked at Weald again.
Then she said:
"We go on, of course!"
Weald's mouth fell open.
"But Templar's on the train. I'm not being funny—"