"Meaning?"
"That I am known in certain strata of society, and to a goodly number of the carriage trade, by that cognomen."
"Ah." Detective Yard spoke with an air of discovery. "A funny man."
"The Saint, eh?" rumbled the sheriff's deputy, with a certain deliberate awe. "Gee, he's the Saint."
"He said he was a doodler," persisted the sergeant.
Dr Quantry consulted a gold watch in exactly the way that Dr Quantry would have consulted a gold watch, and said: "Gentlemen, how about getting on?"
Lieutenant Kinglake held the Saint's eyes for another moment with his hard stare, and gave back the wallet.
"Right," he snapped. "Cut out the eight-cylinder words, Mr Templar, and lead us to the body. You can leave your car here and ride with me. Yard, tell the ambulance driver to follow us. Come on."
Simon turned back to the sergeant as the party trooped out.
"By the way," he said, "the word for 'a hole in the ground' is w-e-1-1, not what you have. Goodbye, Inspector."